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THE YOUNG KING 

HE stood there in the raiment of a king, and the gates of the 
Jewel Shrine flew open, and from the crystal of the many -rayed 
monstrance shone a mavelous and mystical light. 



BEN KUTCHER'S 
Illustrated Edition of 

A 
HOUSE of POMEGRANATES 

and the story of 

THE NIGHTINGALE and THE ROSE 

By OSCAR WILDE 

with an introduction by 
H. L. MENCKEN 



A-SEQy 

ENJTES 



£ 



5 .', -■-;?! 
-■■■ ;-,- 1 



NEW YORK 

MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY 

1918 






ILLUSTRATIONS COPYRIGHTED, I918, 
BY 

Moffat, Yard & Company 



o«nfanwr offk* 

»P» K lift 



OCT 15 iai8 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Happy Prince i 

The Nightingale and the Rose 19 

The Selfish Giant 31 

The Young King 41 

The Star-Child 65 

The Fisherman and His Soul 93 

The Birthday of the Infanta 151 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

The Young King Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

The Young King and the Weaver 48 

The Young King and the Pearl Diver 52 

The Young King and the Pilgrim 54 

The Nobles Were Waiting for Him 58 

The Star Child 66 

"Thou Art My Son" 74 

"He Heard from a Thicket as from Some One in Pain" 82 

The Fisherman and the King's Daughter 94 

The Witch's Dance 108 

The Fisherman Sends Forth His Soul 112 

The Birthday of the Infanta 152 

"The Most Grotesque Monster He Had Ever Beheld" 174 

"Your Little Dwarf Will Never Dance Again" . . . 176 



PREFACE 

A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES" was done 
almost exactly at the middle point of Wilde's 
career as an author, and in the days, coincidently, of 
his soundest and least perturbed celebrity. His 
poems, his posturings and his high services to W. S. 
Gilbert and to Punch were beginning to recede; 
ahead of him were "Salome," the four West End 
comedies, and catastrophe. Relatively placid wa- 
ters surrounded him, shining in the sun. He had 
been married, and had got over it. There was a 
pleasant jingle of gold, or, at all events, of silver 
in his pocket. The foremost reviews of the day were 
open to him. He was not only a popular success, a 
figure in the public eye; he was, more importantly, 
beginning to get the attention of men of sense, to 
be taken with growing seriousness, to feel firm 
ground under him. And in age he was thirty-six, 
with the gas of youth oozed out and the stiffening of 
the climacteric not yet set in. 

So situated, pleasantly becalmed between two 
storms, he wrote "A House of Pomegranates," and 
into it, I have always believed, he put the most ac- 

i 



PREFACE 

curate and, on the whole, the most ingratiating reve- 
lation of his essential ideas that was ever to get upon 
paper. And without, of course, stating them at all — 
not a hint of exposition, of persuasion, of pedagogy 
is in the book. But that is precisely what gives them, 
there, their clarity and validity; they are not spoken 
for, they speak for themselves — and this is always 
the way a man sets forth the faith that is in him most 
honestly and most illuminatingly, not by arguing for 
it like some tin-pot evangelist, but by exhibiting it 
like an artist. Here we have the authentic Wilde, 
the Wilde who explains and dignifies all the lesser 
and more self-conscious Wildes. He is simply one 
who stands ecstatic before a vision of prodigious and 
almost intolerable beauty, a man haunted by inef- 
fable magnificences of color, light, mass and line, 
a rapt and garrulous drunkard of the eye. He is one 
who apprehended loveliness in the world, not as 
sound, not as idea, not as order, not as syllogism, 
above all, not as law, but as picture pure and simple 
— as an ocular image leaping with life, gorgeous in 
its variety, infinite in its significances. And in the 
face of that enchanting picture, standing spellbound 
before its eloquent and narcotic forms, responding 
with all senses to its charming and intricate details, 
he appears before us as the type of all that the 
men of his race and time were not — as a rebel 
almost colossal in the profound artlessness of his 

ii 



PREFACE 

denial. What he denied was the whole moral order 
of the world — the fundamental assumption of the 
Anglo-Saxon peoples. What he set up was a theory 
of the world as purely aesthetic spectacle, superb in 
its beauty, sufficiently its own cause and motive, or- 
dered only by its own inner laws, and as innocent 
of all ethical import and utility as the precession of 
the equinoxes. 

In this denial, of course, there was a challenge, 
and in that challenge was Wilde's undoing. To see 
him merely as a commonplace and ignoble misde- 
meanant, taken accidentally in some secret swinish- 
ness and condemned to a routine doom for that 
swinishness alone, is to accept a view of him that is 
impossibly journalistic and idiotic. He stood in the 
dock charged with a good deal more than private 
viciousness, and the punishment he got was a good 
deal more than private viciousness ever provokes, 
even from agents of the law who seek acquittal of 
themselves in their flogging of the criminal. What 
he was intrinsically accused of, and what he was so 
barbarously punished for, was a flouting of the 
premises upon which the whole civilization of his 
time was standing — a blasphemous attempt upon the 
gods that all docile and well-disposed men believed 
in, even in the midst of disservice — an heretical 
preaching of predicates and valuations that threat- 
ened to make a new generation see the world in a 

iii 



PREFACE 

new way, to the unendurable confusion of the old 
one. In brief, his true trial was in the character of a 
heretic, and the case before the actual jury was no 
more than a symbol of a quite medieval summoning 
of the secular arm. What the secular arm thought 
of it I have often wondered — so astoundingly vast a 
hub-bub over an affair of everyday! Surely fish of 
precisely the same spots were coming into the net 
constantly, and in the sea of London there were many 
more, and some much larger to the eye. But Wilde, 
in truth, was the largest of them all. He had been 
marked for a long while, and delicately pursued. 
Lines had been cast for him; watchers had waited; 
there was a sort of affrighted and unspoken vow to 
dispose of him. And so, when he was hauled in at 
last, it was a good deal more than the mere taking 
of another spotted fish. 

Thus I see the whole transaction, so obscenely wal- 
lowed in by the indignant and unintelligent, and thus 
I see Wilde himself — as one who cried up too impu- 
dently, too eloquently, and, above all, too persua- 
sively a philosophy that was out of its time. As for- 
midably ardent and potent upon the other side, I 
haven't the slightest doubt that his pathological 
sportings in the mire might have gone unchallenged, 
or at all events unwhooped. One hears of such 
things in Y. M. C. A.'s often enough, but in whis- 
pers; the very newspapers show discretion; surely 

iv 



PREFACE 

no great state trials ensue. But here was a man 
who had done a great deal more than bring a pass- 
ing stench into the synagogue. Here was one who 
had brought a scarlet woman there, and paraded her 
up and down, and shoved the croaking Iokanaan 
back into his rain-barrel, and invited the young men 
to consider the dignity and preciousness of beauty, 
and fluttered even the old ones with his Byzantine 
tales. Here, in brief, was one to be put down in swift 
dudgeon if disaster was to be avoided — if the con- 
cept of life as a bondage to implacable law was to 
stand unshaken — if the moral order of the world, 
or, at least, of that little corner of it, was to hold out 
against a stealthy and abominable paganism. Wilde 
was the first unmistakable anti-Puritan, the first un- 
compromising enemy of the essential Puritan char- 
acter — the fear of beauty. He was destroyed, on the 
one hand, because he was getting power. He was 
destroyed, on the other hand, because he was funda- 
mentally weak. 

That weakness resided, in part, in a childish van- 
ity, an empty desire for superficial consideration, 
that was peculiar to the man, but the rest of it, and 
perhaps the larger part, had deeper roots. It be- 
longed to his race, to the ineradicable Scotticism of 
the North of Ireland Protestant; one perceives the 
same quality, lavishly displayed, in George Bernard 
Shaw — a congenital Puritanism beneath the surface 

v 



PREFACE 

layer of anti-Puritanism, a sort of moral revolt 
against the moral axiom, a civil war with fortunes 
that vary curiously, and often astonishingly. Wilde, 
as a youth, went to Greece with Mahaffy, and came 
home a professed Greek, but underneath there were 
always Northern reservations, a Northern habit of 
conscience, a Northern incapacity for Mediterranean 
innocence. One gets here, it seems to me, an explana- 
tion of many things — his squeamishness in certain 
little ways (all his work, in phrase, is as "clean" 
as Walter Pater's or Leonardo's) ; his defective grasp 
of the concept of honor, as opposed to that of morals ; 
the strange limits set upon his aesthetic reactions 
(e.g., his anesthesia to music) ; his touches of gross- 
ness; his inability to distinguish between aristocracy 
and mere social consideration; most of all, that irre- 
pressible inner reminder which led him constantly 
to stand aghast, so to speak, before his own heresies — 
that pressing and ineradicable sense of their diabol- 
ism. In a word, the man was quite unable to throw 
off his inheritance entirely. It dogged him in the 
midst of his prosperity. It corrupted his sincerity. 
It sent doubts to tease him, and flung him into hollow 
extravagances of self-assertion. And when, in the 
end, he faced a tremendous and inexorable issue, he 
met it in an almost typically Puritanical manner — 
that is, timorously, evasively, dishonestly, with an 
eye upon the crowd, almost morally — as you will find 

vi 



PREFACE 



set forth at length, if you are interested, in Frank 
Harris' capital biography. 

In a word, Wilde was, at bottom, a second-rate 
man, and so inferior to his cause that he came near 
ditching it. One gets, from the accounts of those 
who were in close relations with him, a feeling of 
repugnance like that bred by the familiar "good 
man"; he was, on his plane, as insufferable as a 
Methodist is on his. But there was in him something 
that is surely not in the Methodist, and that was a 
capacity for giving his ideas a dignity not in him- 
self — a talent as artist which, at its best, was almost 
enough to conceal his limitations as a man. What he 
did with words was a rare and lovely thing. Him- 
self well-nigh tone-deaf, he got into them a sonorous 
and majestic music. Himself hideous, he fashioned 
them into complex and brilliant arabesques of beauty. 
Himself essentially shallow and even bogus, he gave 
them thunderous eloquence, an austere dignity al- 
most Biblical, the appearance of high sincerity that 
goes with all satisfying art. In these stories, I be- 
lieve, he is at his best. His mere flashiness is reduced 
to very little; his ideas, often hollow, are submerged 
in feelings; he seems to forget his followers, his 
place, his celebrity, and to devote himself wholly 
to his work; he is the artist emancipated, for the mo- 
ment, from the other things that he was, and the 
worse things that he tried to be. I know of no mod- 

vii 



PREFACE 

ern English that projects color and warmth and form 
more brilliantly, or that serves more nobly the high 
purposes of beauty, or that stands further from the 
flaccid manner and uses of everyday stupidity. 
There are faults in it, true enough. At times it grows 
self-conscious, labored, almost sing-song. But in the 
main it is genuinely distinguished — in the main it is 
signal work. 

H. L. Mencken. 



Vlll 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 



THE HAPPY PRINCE 

HIGH above the city, on a tall column, stood the 
statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded 
all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had 
two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed 
on his sword-hilt. 

He was very much admired indeed. "He is as 
beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the 
Town Councilors who wished to gain a reputation 
for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so useful," 
he added, fearing lest people should think him un- 
practical, which he really was not. 

"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked 
a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying 
for the moon. "The Happy Prince never dreams of 
crying for anything." 

"I am glad there is some one in the world who is 
quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he 
gazed at the wonderful statue. 

"He looks just like an angel," said the Charity 
Children as they came out of the cathedral in their 
bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white pinafores. 

"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Mas- 
ter, "you have never seen one." 

i 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the 
children, and the Mathematical Master frowned and 
looked very severe, for he did not approve of chil- 
dren dreaming. 

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. 
His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks be- 
fore, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love 
with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early 
in the spring as he was flying down the river after a 
big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her 
slender waist he had stopped to talk to her. 

"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked 
to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him 
a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touch- 
ing the water with his wings, and making silver rip- 
ples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all 
through the summer. 

"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the 
other Swallows, "she has no money, and far too many 
relations"; and indeed the river was quite full of 
Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew 
away. 

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to 
tire of his lady-love. "She has no conversation," he 
said, "and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she 
is always flirting with the wind." And certainly, 
whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most 
graceful curtsies. "I admit that she is domestic," he 

2 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

continued, "but I love traveling, and my wife, con- 
sequently, should love traveling also." 

"Will you come away with me?" he said finally 
to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so at- 
tached to her home. 

"You have been trifling with me," he cried, "I 
am off to the Pyramids. Good-by!" and he flew 
away. 

All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived 
at the city. "Where shall I put up?" he said; "I 
hope the town has made preparations." 

Then he saw the statue on the tall column. "I 
will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine position 
with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just be- 
tween the feet of the Happy Prince. 

"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to him- 
self as he looked round, and he prepared to go to 
sleep ; but just as he was putting his head under 
his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What 
a curious thing!" he cried, "there is not a single cloud 
in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and 
yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Eu- 
rope is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the 
rain, but that was merely her selfishness." 

Then another drop fell. 

"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the 
rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chim- 
ney-pot," and he determined to fly away. 

3 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop 
fell, and he looked up, and saw — Ah! what did he 
see? 

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with 
tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. 
His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the 
Swallow was filled with pity. 

"Who are you?" he said. 

"I am the Happy Prince." 

"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; 
"you have quite drenched me." 

"When I was alive and had a human heart," an- 
swered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, 
for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sor- 
row is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played 
with my companions in the garden, and in the even- 
ing I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the 
garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask 
what lay beyond it, everything about me was so 
beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy 
Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be hap- 
piness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that 
I am dead they have set me up here so high that I 
can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my 
city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I 
cannot choose but weep." 

"What, is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow 

4 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

to himself. He was too polite to make any personal 
remarks out loud. 

"Far away," continued the statue in a low musical 
voice, "far away in a little street there is a poor 
house. One of the windows is open, and through it 
I can see a woman seated at the table. Her face is 
thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all 
pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She 
is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for 
the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honor to wear 
at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the 
room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and 
is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to 
give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, 
Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the 
ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to 
this pedestal and I cannot move." 

"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. 
"My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and 
talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will 
go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The 
King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is 
wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. 
Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and 
his hands are like withered leaves." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "will you not stay with me for one night, and 

5 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the 
mother so sad." 

"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. 
"Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there 
were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were al- 
ways throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of 
course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and 
besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; 
but still, it was a mark of disrespect." 

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little 
Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; 
"but I will stay with you for one night, and be your 
messenger." 

"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince. 

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from 
the Prince's sword and flew away with it in his beak 
over the roofs of the town. 

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white 
marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the 
palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beauti- 
ful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. 
"How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and 
how wonderful is the power of love!" "I hope my 
dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she 
answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be em- 
broidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy." 

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns 
hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over 

6 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with 
each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. 
At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The 
boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother 
had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, 
and laid the great ruby on the table beside the 
woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the 
bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. 
"How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting 
better;" and he sank into a delicious slumber. 

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, 
and told him what he had done. "It is curious," he 
remarked, "but I feel quite warm now, although it 
is so cold." 

"That is because you have done a good action," 
said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to 
think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always 
made him sleepy. 

When day broke he flew down to the river and had 
a bath. "What a remarkable phenomenon," said the 
professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the 
bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a 
long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every- 
one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they 
could not understand. 

"To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow and 
he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited 
all the public monuments, and sat a long time on 

7 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

top of the church steeple. Wherever he went Spar- 
rows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a 
distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very 
much. 

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy 
Prince. "Have you any commissions for Egypt?" 
he cried; "I am just starting." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?" 

"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swal- 
low. "To-morrow my friends will fly up to the 
Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there 
among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne 
sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches 
the stars, and when the morning star shines he ut- 
ters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the 
yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. 
They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is 
louder than the roar of the cataract." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "far away across the city I see a young man 
in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with 
papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch 
of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, 
and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has 
large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play 
for the Director of the Theater, but he is too cold 

8 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and 
hunger has made him faint." 

"I will wait with you one night longer," said the 
Swallow, who really had a good heart. "Shall I 
take him another ruby?" 

"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; 
"my eyes are all that I have left. They are made 
of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India 
a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and 
take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweler, and 
buy food and firewood, and finish his play." 

"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do 
that;" and he began to weep. 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "do as I command you." 

So the swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and 
flew away to the student's garret. It was easy enough 
to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through 
this he darted, and came into the room. The young 
man had his head buried in his hands, so he did 
not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he 
looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on 
the withered violets. 

"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; 
"this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish 
my play," and he looked quite happy. 

The next day the Swallow flew down to the har- 
bor. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and 

9 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the 
hold with ropes. "Heave a-hoy!" they shouted as 
each chest came up. "I am going to Egypt!" cried 
the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the 
moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. 

"I am come to bid you good-by," he cried. 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?" 

"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the 
chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is 
warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie 
in the mud and look lazily about them. My com- 
panions are building a nest in the Temple of Baal- 
bec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, 
and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave 
you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I 
will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place 
of those you have given away. The ruby shall be 
redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as 
blue as the great sea." 

"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, 
"there stands a little match-girl. She has let her 
matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. 
Her father will beat her if she does not bring home 
some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes 
or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out 
my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will 
not beat her." 

10 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"I will stay with you one night longer," said the 
Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye. You 
would be quite blind then." 

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
Prince, "do as I command you." 

So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and 
darted down with it. He swooped past the match- 
girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. 
"What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and 
she ran home, laughing. 

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You 
are blind now," he said, "so I will stay with you al- 
ways." 

"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you 
must go away to Egypt." 

"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, 
and he slept at the Prince's feet. 

All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, 
and told him stories of what he had seen in strange 
lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in 
long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold 
fish in their beaks ; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the 
world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows every- 
thing; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side 
of their camels, and carry amber in their hands; 
of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who 
is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; 
of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, 

ii 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; 
and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large 
flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies. 

"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell 
me of marvelous things, but more marvelous than 
anything is the suffering of men and of women. 
There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over 
my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see 
there." 

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw 
the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, 
while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He 
flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starv- 
ing children looking out listlessly at the black streets. 
Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were 
lying in one another's arms to try and keep them- 
selves warm. "How hungry we are!" they said. 
"You must not lie here," shouted the Watchman, 
and they wandered out into the rain. 

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he 
had seen. 

"I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, 
"you must take it off leaf by leaf, and give it to my 
poor; the living always think that gold can make 
them happy." 

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked 
off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and gray. 
Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the 

12 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they 
laughed and played games in the street. "We have 
bread now!" they cried. 

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the 
frost. The streets looked as if they were made of 
silver, they were so bright and glistening; long 
icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves 
of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the 
little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice. 

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, 
but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too 
well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door 
when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep 
himself warm by flapping his wings. 

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He 
had just strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder 
once more. "Good-by, dear Prince!" he mur- 
mured, "will you let me kiss your hand?" 

"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, 
little Swallow," said the Prince, " you have stayed 
too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for 
I love you." 

"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swal- 
low. "I am going to the House of Death. Death 
is the brother of Sleep, is he not?" 

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and 
fell down dead at his feet. 

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the 

13 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

statue as if something had broken. The fact is that 
the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It cer- 
tainly was a dreadfully hard frost. 

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking 
in the square below in company with the Town 
Councilors. As they passed the column he looked 
up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby the Happy 
Prince looks!" he said. 

"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Council- 
ors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and they 
went up to look at it. 

"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are 
gone, and he is golden no longer," said the Mayor; 
"in fact, he is little better than a beggar!" 

"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Coun- 
cilors. 

"And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" con- 
tinued the Mayor. "We must really issue a procla- 
mation that birds are not to be allowed to die here." 
And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion. 

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy 
Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer 
useful," said the Art Professor at the University. 

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the 
Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide 
what was to be done with the metal. "We must have 
another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a 
statue of myself." 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Of myself," said each of the Town Councilors, 
and they quarreled. When I last heard of them 
they were quarreling still. 

"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the 
workmen at the foundry. "This broken lead heart 
will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it 
away." So they threw it on a dust-heap where the 
dead swallow was also lying. 

"Bring me the two most precious things in the 
city," said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel 
brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird. 

"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my 
garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing forever- 
more, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall 
praise me." 



1* 



THF 
NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 



THE 
NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 

SHE said that she would dance with me if 1 
brought her red roses," cried the young 
Student; "but in all my garden there is no red rose." 
From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale 
heard him, and she looked out through the leaves, 
and wondered. 

"No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his 
beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little 
things does happiness depend! I have read all that 
the wise men have written, and all the secrets of 
philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is 
my life made wretched." 

"Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightingale. 
"Night after night have I sung of him, though I 
knew him not: night after night have I told his story 
to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark 
as the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the 
rose of his desire; but passion has made his face 
like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her seal upon his 
brow." 

"The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night," mur- 
mured the young Student, "and my love will be 

19 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

of the company. If I bring her a red rose she will 
dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose, 
I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her 
head upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped 
in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so 
I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will 
have no heed of me, and my heart will break." 

"Here indeed is the true lover," said the Nightin- 
gale. "What I sing of, he suffers; what is joy to me, 
to him is pain. Surely, Love is a wonderful thing. It 
is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine 
opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor 
is it set forth in the market-place. It may not be 
purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed 
out in the balance for gold." 

"The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the 
young Student, "and play upon their stringed instru- 
ments, and my love will dance to the sound of the 
harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that 
her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers 
in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with 
me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give 
her;" and he flung himself down on the grass, and 
buried his face in his hands, and wept. 

"Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, 
as he ran past him with his tail in the air. 

"Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was flutter- 
ing after a sunbeam. 

20 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neigh- 
bor, in a soft, low voice. 

"He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightin- 
gale. 

"For a red rose!" they cried; "how very ridicu- 
lous!" and the little Lizard, who was something of 
a cynic, laughed outright. 

But the Nightingale understood the secret of the 
Student's sorrow, and she sat silent in the Oak-tree, 
and thought about the mystery of love. 

Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, 
and soared into the air. She passed through the 
grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed 
across the garden. 

In the center or the grass-plot was standing a 
beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it, she flew 
over to it, and lit upon a spray. 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as 
the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon 
the mountain. But go to my brother who grows 
round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you 
what you want." 

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that 
was growing round the old sun-dial. 

21 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

"My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow 
as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber 
throne, and yellower than the daffodil that blooms 
in the meadow before the mower comes with his 
scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the 
Student's window, and perhaps he will give you what 
you want." 

So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that 
was growing beneath the Student's window. 

"Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
you my sweetest song." 

But the Tree shook its head. 

"My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the 
feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of 
coral that wave and wave in the ocean-cavern. But 
the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has 
nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my 
branches, and I shall have no roses at all this year." 

"One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightin- 
gale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by which 
I can get it?" 

"There is a way," answered the Tree; "but it is 
so terrible that I dare not tell it to you." 

"Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not 
afraid." 

22 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must 
build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with 
your own heart's-blood. You must sing to me with 
your breast against a thorn. All night long you must 
sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and 
your life-blood must flow into my veins and become 
mine." 

"Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried 
the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is 
pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the 
Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her 
chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, 
and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, 
and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love is 
better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird com- 
pared to the heart of a man?" 

So she spread her brown wings for flight, and 
soared into the air. She swept over the garden like 
a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed through the 
grove. 

The young Student was still lying on the grass, 
where she had left him, and the tears were not yet 
dry in his beautiful eyes. 

"Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; 
you shall have your red rose. I will build it out 
of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own 
heart's-blood. All that I ask of you in return is that 
you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Phi- 

23 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

losophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, 
though he is mighty. Flame-colored are his wings, 
and colored like flame is his body. His lips are sweet 
as honey, and his breath is like frankincense." 

The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, 
but he could not understand what the Nightingale 
was saying to him, for he only knew the things that 
are written down in books. 

But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for 
he was very fond of the little Nightingale who had 
built her nest in his branches. 

"Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall 
feel very lonely when you are gone." 

So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her 
voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar. 

When she had finished her song, the Student got 
up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil out of 
his pocket. 

"She has form," he said to himself, as he walked 
away through the grove — "that cannot be denied to 
her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In 
fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without 
any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for 
others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody 
knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be ad- 
mitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. 
What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or 
do any practical good." And he went into his room, 

24 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and lay down on his little pallet-bed, and began to 
think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep. 

And when the Moon shone in the heavens the 
Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast 
against the thorn. All night long she sang with her 
breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon 
leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, 
and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her 
breast, and her life blood ebbed away from her. 

She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a 
boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the 
Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal 
followed petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, 
at first, as the mist that hangs over the river — pale as 
the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of 
the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of 
silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was 
the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the 
Tree. 

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Night- 
ingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come be- 
fore the rose is finished." 

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, 
and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang 
of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a 
maid. 

And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves 

25 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bride- 
groom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the 
thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose's 
heart remained white, for only a Nightingale's 
heart's-blood can crimson the heart of a rose. 

And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Night- 
ingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come be- 
fore the rose is finished." 

So the Nightingale pressed closer against the 
thorn, and the thorn touched her heart and a fierce 
pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was 
the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for 
she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of 
the Love that dies not in the tomb. 

And the marvelous rose became crimson, like the 
rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of 
petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart. 

But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her 
little wings began to beat, and a film came over her 
eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she 
felt something choking her in her throat. 

Then she gave one last burst of music. The white 
Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered 
on in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled 
all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the 
cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple 
cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds 

26 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

from their dreams. It floated through the reeds of 
the river, and they carried its message to the sea. 

"Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is finished 
now;" but the Nightingale made no answer, for she 
was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in 
her heart. 

And at noon the Student opened his window and 
looked out. 

•'Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; 
"here is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like 
it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure 
that it has a long Latin name"; and he leaned down 
and plucked it. 

Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Profes- 
sor's house with the rose in his hand. 

The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the 
doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her little 
dog was lying at her feet. 

"You said that you would dance with me if I 
brought you a red rose," cried the Student. "Here 
is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it 
to-night next your heart, and as we dance together 
it will tell you how I love you." 

But the girl frowned. 

"I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she 
answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's nephew 
sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that 
jewels cost far more than flowers." 

27 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful," 
said the Student angrily; and he threw the rose into 
the street, where it fell into the gutter, and a cart- 
wheel went over it. 

"Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you 
are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a 
Student. Why, I don't believe you have even got 
silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain's 
nephew has"; and she got up from her chair and 
went into the house. 

"What a silly thing Love is," said the Student as 
he walked away. "It is not half as useful as Logic, 
for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling 
one of things that are not going to happen, and mak- 
ing one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is. 
quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical 
is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and 
study Metaphysics." 

So he returned to his room and pulled out a great 
dusty book, and began to read. 



28 



THE SELFISH GIANT 



THE SELFISH GIANT 

EVERY afternoon, as they were coming from 
school, the children used to go and play in the 
Giant's garden. 

It was a large, lovely garden, with soft, green grass. 
Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers 
like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in 
the springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of 
pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. 
The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that 
the children used to stop their games in order to 
listen to them. "How happy we are here!" they 
cried to each other. 

One day the Giant came back. He had been to 
visit his friend, the Cornish ogre, and had stayed 
with him for seven years. After the seven years 
were over he had said all that he had to say, for his 
conversation was limited, and he determined to re- 
turn to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the 
children playing in the garden. 

"What are you doing there?" he cried in a very 
gruff voice, and the children ran away. 

"My own garden is my own garden," said the 
Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will 

3i 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he built 
a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board. 



TRESPASSERS 

WILL BE 
PROSECUTED 



He was a very selfish giant. 

The poor children had now nowhere to play. 
They tried to play on the road, but the road was very 
dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. 
They used to wander round the high wall when their 
lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden 
inside. "How happy we were there," they said to 
each other. 

Then the Spring came, and all over the country 
there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in 
the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. 
The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no 
children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a 
beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but 
when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the 
children that it slipped back into the ground again, 
and went off to sleep. The only people who were 
pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has 
forgotten this garden," they cried, "so we will live 
here all the year round." The Snow covered up the 

32 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost 
painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the 
North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He 
was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the 
garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. "This is 
a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on 
a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three 
hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke 
most of the slates, and then he ran round and round 
the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in 
gray, and his breath was like ice. 

"I can not understand why the Spring is so late 
in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the 
window and looked out at his cold white garden; 
"I hope there will be a change in the weather." 

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The 
Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to 
the Giant's garden she gave none. "He is too 
selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, 
and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, 
and the Snow danced about through the trees. 

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed 
when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so 
sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King's 
musicians passing by. It was really only a little 
linnet singing outside his window but it was so long 
since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it 
seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the 

33 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his 
head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a de- 
licious perfume came to him through the open case- 
ment. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said 
the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out. 

What did he see? 

He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little 
hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they 
were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every 
tree that he could see there was a little child. And 
the trees were so glad to have the children back again 
that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and 
were waving their arms gently above the children's 
heads. The birds were flying about and twittering 
with delight, and the flowers were looking up 
through the green grass and laughing. It was a 
lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. 
It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it 
was standing a little boy. He was so small that he 
could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he 
was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The 
poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, 
and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above 
it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it 
bent its branches down as low as it could; but the 
boy was too tiny. 

And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. 
"How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know 

34 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

why the Spring would not come here. I will put 
that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then 
I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be 
the children's playground for ever and ever." He 
was really very sorry for what he had done. 

So he crept downstairs and opened the front door 
quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when 
the children saw him they were so frightened that 
they all ran away, and the garden became winter 
again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes 
were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant 
coming. And the Giant strode up behind him and 
took him gently in his hand, and put him up into 
the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, 
and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy 
stretched out his two arms, and flung them round 
the Giant's neck, and kissed him. And the other 
children, when they saw that the Giant was not 
wicked any longer, came running back, and with 
them came the Spring. "It is your garden now, little 
children," said the Giant, and he took a great ax and 
knocked down the wall. And when the people were 
going to market at twelve o'clock they found the 
Giant playing with the children in the most beauti- 
ful garden they had ever seen. 

All day long they played, and in the evening they 
came to the Giant to bid him good-by. 

"But where is your little companion?" he said: 

35 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"the boy I put into the tree." The Giant loved him 
the best because he had kissed him. 

"We don't know," answered the children; "he has 
gone away." 

"You must tell him to be sure and come here to- 
morrow," said the Giant. But the children said 
that they did not know where he lived, and had never 
seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad. 

Every afternoon, when school was over, the 
children came and played with the Giant. But the 
little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. 
The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he 
longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of 
him. "How I would like to see him!" he used to say. 

Years went over, and the Giant grew very old 
and feeble. He could not play about any more, 
so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the 
children at their games, and admired his garden. 
"I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the 
children are the most beautiful flowers of all." 

One winter morning he looked out of his window 
as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter 
now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring, 
asleep, and that the flowers were resting. 

Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked 
and looked. It certainly was a marvelous sight. 
In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite 
covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches 

36 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from 
them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had 
loved. 

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out 
into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and 
came near to the child. And when he came quite 
close his face grew red with anger, and he said, 
"Who hath dared to wound thee?" For on the palms 
of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, 
and the prints of two nails were on the little feet. 

"Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the 
Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and 
slay him." 

"Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the 
wounds of Love." 

"Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange 
awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child. 

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to 
him, "You let me play once in your garden, to-day 
you shall come with me to my garden, which is 
Paradise." 

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they 
found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all 
covered with white blossoms. 



37 



THE YOUNG KING 



THE YOUNG KING 

IT was the night before the day fixed for his 
coronation, and the young King was sitting alone 
in his beautiful chamber. His courtiers had all taken 
their leave of him, bowing their heads to the ground, 
according to the ceremonious usage of the day, and 
had retired to the Great Hall of the Palace, to re- 
ceive a few lessons from the Professor of Etiquette; 
there being some of them who had still quite natural 
manners, which in a courtier is, I need hardly say, 
a very grave offense. 

The lad — for he was only a lad, being but sixteen 
years of age — was not sorry at their departure, and 
had flung himself back with a deep sigh of relief on 
the soft cushions of his embroidered couch, lying 
there, wild-eyed and open-mouthed, like a brown 
woodland Faun, or some young animal of the forest 
newly snared by the hunters. 

And, indeed, it was the hunters who had found 
him, coming upon him almost by chance as, bare- 
limbed and pipe in hand, he was following the flock 
of the poor goatherd who had brought him up, and 
whose son he had always fancied himself to be. The 
child of the old King's only daughter by a secret 

4i 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

marriage with one much beneath her in station — a 
stranger, some said, who, by the wonderful magic 
of his lute-playing, had made the Young Princess 
love him; while others spoke of an artist from 
Rimini, to whom the Princess had shown much, per- 
haps too much honor, and who had suddenly dis- 
appeared from the city, leaving his work in the 
Cathedral unfinished — he had been, when but a week 
old, stolen away from his mother's side, as she slept, 
and given into the charge of a common peasant and 
his wife, who Were without children of their own, 
and lived in a remote part of the forest more than 
a day's ride from the town. Grief, or the plague, as 
the court physician stated, or, as some suggested, a 
swift Italian poison administered in a cup of spiced 
wine, slew, within an hour of her wakening, the 
white girl who had given him birth, and as the 
trusty messenger who bore the child across the sad- 
dle-bow stooped from his weary horse and knocked 
at the rude door of the goatherd's hut, the body of the 
Princess was being lowered into an open grave that 
had been dug in a deserted churchyard, beyond the 
city gates, a grave where it was said that another 
body was also lying, that of a young man of marvel- 
ous and foreign beauty whose hands were tied be- 
hind him with a knotted cord, and whose breast was 
stabbed with many red wounds. 

Such, at least, was the story that men whispered 

42 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

to each other. Certain it was that the old King, 
when on his death-bed, whether moved by remorse 
for his great sin, or merely desiring that the king- 
dom should not pass away from his line, had had the 
lad sent for, and, in the presence of the Council, had 
acknowledged him as his heir. 

And it seems that from the very first moment of 
his recognition he had shown signs of that strange 
passion for beauty that was destined to have so great 
an influence over his life. Those who accompanied 
him to the suite of rooms set apart for his service, 
often spoke of the cry of pleasure that broke from 
his lips when he saw the delicate raiment and rich 
jewels that had been prepared for him, and of the 
almost fierce joy with which he flung aside his rough 
leathern tunic and coarse sheepskin cloak. He 
missed, indeed, at times the fine freedom of his forest 
life, and was always apt to chafe at the tedious 
Court ceremonies that occupied so much of each day, 
but the wonderful palace — Joyeuse, as they called 
it — of which he now found himself lord, seemed to 
him to be a new world fresh-fashioned for his de- 
light; and as soon as he could escape from the coun- 
cil-board or audience-chamber, he would run down 
the great staircase, with its lions of gilt bronze and 
its steps of bright porphyry, and wander from room 
to room, and from corridor to corridor, like one who 

43 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

was seeking to find in beauty an anodyne from pain, 
a sort of restoration from sickness. 

Upon these journeys of discovery, as he would call 
them — and, indeed, they were to him real voyages 
through a marvelous land — he would sometimes be 
accompanied by the slim, fair-haired Court pages, 
with their floating mantles, and gay fluttering 
ribands; but more often he would be alone, feeling 
through a certain quick instinct, which was almost 
a divination, that the secrets of art are best learned 
in secret, and that Beauty, like Wisdom, loves the 
lonely worshiper. 

Many curious stories were related about him at 
this period. It was said that a stout Burgomaster, 
who had come to deliver a florid oratorical address 
on behalf of the citizens of the town, had caught 
sight of him kneeling in real adoration before a 
great picture that had just been brought from Venice, 
and that seemed to herald the worship of some new 
gods. On another occasion he had been missed for 
several hours, and after a lengthened search had been 
discovered in a little chamber in one of the northern 
turrets of the palace gazing, as one in a trance, at a 
Greek gem carved with the figure of Adonis. He 
had been seen, so the tale ran, pressing his warm lips 
to the marble brow of an antique statue that had been 
discovered in the bed of the river on the occasion 
of the building of the stone bridge, and was inscribed 

44 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

with the name of the Bithynian slave of Hadrian. 
He had passed a whole night in noting the effect of 
the moonlight on a silver image of Endymion. 

All rare and costly materials had certainly a great 
fascination for him, and in his eagerness to pro- 
cure them he had sent away many merchants, some 
to traffic for amber with the rough fisher-folk of the 
north seas, some to Egypt to look for that curious 
green turquoise which is found only in the tombs of 
kings, and is said to possess magical properties, some 
to Persia for silk carpets and painted pottery, and 
others to India to buy gauze and stained ivory, moon- 
stones and bracelets of jade, sandal-wood and blue 
enamel and shawls of fine wool. 

But what had occupied him most was the robe he 
was to wear at his coronation, and the robe of tissued 
gold, and the ruby-studded crown, and the scepter 
with its rows and rings of pearls. Indeed, it was 
of this that he was thinking to-night, as he lay back 
on his luxurious couch, watching the great pine- 
wood log that was burning itself out on the open 
hearth. The designs, which were from the hands 
of the most famous artists of the time, had been sub- 
mitted to him many months before, and he had given 
orders that the artificers were to toil night and day 
to carry them out, and that the whole world was to 
be searched for jewels that would be worthy of their 
work. He saw himself in fancy standing at the high 

45 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

altar of the cathedral in the fair raiment of a King, 
and a smile played and lingered about his boyish 
lips, and lit up with a bright luster his dark wood- 
land eyes. 

After some time he rose from his seat, and leaning 
against the carved penthouse of the chimney, looked 
round at the dimly-lit room. The walls were hung 
with rich tapestries representing the Triumph of 
Beauty. A large press, inlaid with agate and lapis- 
lazuli, filled one corner, and facing the window stood 
a curiously wrought cabinet with lacquer panels of 
powdered and mosaicked gold, on which were placed 
some delicate goblets of Venetian glass, and a cup 
of dark-veined onyx. Pale poppies were broidered 
on the silk coverlet of the bed, as though they had 
fallen from the tired hands of sleep, and tall reeds 
of fluted ivory bore up the velvet canopy, from which 
great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, like white foam, 
to the pallid silver of the fretted ceiling. A laughing 
Narcissus in green bronze held a polished mirror 
above its head. On the table stood a flat bowl of 
amethyst. 

Outside he could see the huge dome of the 
cathedral, looming like a bubble over the shadowy 
houses, and the weary sentinels pacing up and down 
on the misty terrace by the river. Far away, in an 
orchard, a nightingale was singing. A faint per- 
fume of jasmine came through the open window. 

4 6 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

He brushed his brown curls back from his forehead, 
and taking up a lute, let his fingers stray across the 
cords. His heavy eyelids drooped, and a strange 
languor came over him. Never before had he felt 
so keenly, or with such exquisite joy, the magic and 
the mystery of beautiful things. 

When midnight sounded from the clock-tower he 
touched a bell, and his pages entered and disrobed 
him with much ceremony, pouring rose-water over 
his hands, and strewing flowers on his pillow. A few 
moments after that they had left the room, and he 
fell asleep. 

And as he slept he dreamed a dream, and this was 
his dream. 

He thought that he was standing in a long, low 
attic, amidst the whirr and clatter of many looms. 
The meager daylight peered in through the grated 
windows, and showed him the gaunt figures of the 
weavers bending over their cases. Pale, sickly-look- 
ing children were crouched on the huge crossbeams. 
As the shuttles dashed through the warp they lifted 
up the heavy battens, and when the shuttles stopped 
they let the battens fall and pressed the threads to- 
gether. Their faces were pinched with famine, and 
their thin hands shook and trembled. Some haggard 
women were seated at a table sewing. A horrible 
odor filled the place. The air was foul and heavy, 
and the walls dripped and streamed with damp. 

47 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

The young King went over to one of the weavers, 
and stood by him and watched him. 

And the weaver looked at him angrily, and said, 
"Why art thou watching me? Art thou a spy set on 
us by our master?" 

"Who is thy master?" asked the young King. 

"Our master!" cried the weaver, bitterly. "He 
is a man like myself. Indeed, there is but this dif- 
ference between us — that he wears fine clothes while 
I go in rags, and that while I am weak from hunger 
he suffers not a little from overfeeding." 

"The land is free," said the young King, "and thou 
art no man's slave." 

"In war," answered the weaver, "the strong make 
slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves 
of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us 
such mean wages that we die. We toil for them all 
day long, and they heap up gold in their coffers, and 
our children fade away before their time, and the 
faces of those we love become hard and evil. We 
tread out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We 
sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We have 
chains, though no eye beholds them; and are slaves, 
though men call us free." 

"Is it so with all?" he asked. 

"It is so with all," answered the weaver, "with the 
young as well as with the old, with the women as 
well as with the men, with the little children as well 

4 8 




THE YOUNG KING 

The young' king- went over to one of the weavers, stood by him 
and watched him. 

And the weaver looked at him angrily and said, "Why art 
thou watching me. " 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

as with those who are stricken in years. The 
merchants grind us down, and we must needs do their 
bidding. The priest rides by and tells his beads, and 
no man has care of us. Through our sunless lanes 
creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with 
his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery 
wakes us in the morning, and Shame sits with us at 
night. But what are these things to thee? Thou art 
not one of us. Thy face is too happy." And he 
turned away scowling, and threw the shuttle across 
the loom, and the young King saw that it was 
threaded with a thread of gold. 

And a great terror seized upon him, and he said 
to the weaver, "What robe is this that thou art weav- 
ing?" 

"It is the robe for the coronation of the young 
King," he answered; "What is that to thee?" 

And the young King gave a loud cry and woke, 
and lo! he was in his own chamber, and through the 
window he saw the great honey-colored moon hang- 
ing in the dusky air. 

And he fell asleep again and dreamed, and this 
was his dream. 

He thought that he was lying on the deck of a 
huge galley that was being rowed by a hundred 
slaves. On a carpet by his side the master of the 
galley was seated. He was black as ebony, and his 
turban was of crimson silk. Great earrings of silver 

49 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

dragged down the thick lobes of his ears, and in his 
hands he had a pair of ivory scales. 

The slaves were naked, but for a ragged loin- 
cloth, and each man was chained to his neighbor. 
The hot sun beat brightly upon them, and the negroes 
ran up and down the gangway and lashed them with 
whips of hide. They stretched out their lean arms 
and pulled the heavy oars through the water. The 
salt spray flew from the blades. 

At last they reached a little bay and began to take 
soundings. A light wind blew from the shore, and 
covered the deck and the great lateen sail with a fine 
red dust. Three Arabs mounted on wild asses rode 
out and threw spears at them. The master of the 
galley took a painted bow in his hand and shot one 
of them in the throat. He fell heavily into the surf, 
and his companions galloped away. A woman 
wrapped in a yellow veil followed slowly on a camel, 
looking back now and then at the dead body. 

As soon as they had cast anchor and hauled down 
the sail, the negroes went into the hold and brought 
up a long rope-ladder, heavily weighted with lead. 
The master of the galley threw it over the side, mak- 
ing the ends fast to two iron stanchions. Then the 
negroes seized the youngest of the slaves, and knocked 
his gyves off, and filled his nostrils and ears with wax, 
and tied a big stone round his waist. He crept 
wearily down the ladder, and disappeared into the 

5o 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

sea. A few bubbles rose where he sank. Some of 
the other slaves peered curiously over the side. At 
the prow of the galley sat a shark charmer, beating 
monotonously upon a drum. 

After some time the diver rose up out of the water, 
and clung panting to the ladder with a pearl in his 
right hand. The negroes seized it from him, and 
thrust him back. The slaves fell asleep over their 
oars. 

Again and again he came up, and each time that 
he did so he brought with him a beautiful pearl. 
The master of the galley weighed them, and put 
them into a little bag of green leather. 

The young King tried to speak, but his tongue 
seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, and his 
lips refused to move. The negroes chattered to each 
other, and began to quarrel over a string of bright 
beads. Two cranes flew round and round the vessel. 

Then the diver came up for the last time, and the 
pearl that he brought with him was fairer than all 
the pearls of Ormuz, for it was shaped like the full 
moon, and whiter than the morning star. But his 
face was strangely pale, and as he fell upon the deck 
the blood gushed from his ears and nostrils. He 
quivered for a little, and then he was still. The 
negroes shrugged their shoulders, and threw the body 
overboard. 

And the master of the galley laughed, and, reach- 

5i 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

ing out, he took the pearl, and when he saw it he 
pressed it to his forehead and bowed. "It shall be," 
he said, "for the scepter of the young King," and he 
made a sign to the negroes to draw up the anchor. 

And when the young King heard this he gave a 
great cry, and woke, and through the window he 
saw the long, gray fingers of the dawn clutching at 
the fading stars. 

And he fell asleep again, and dreamed, and this 
was the dream. 

He thought that he was wandering through a dim 
wood, hung with strange fruits and with beautiful 
poisonous flowers. The adders hissed at him as he 
went by, and the bright parrots flew screaming from 
branch to branch. Huge tortoises lay asleep upon 
the hot mud. The trees were full of apes and pea- 
cocks. 

On and on he went, till he reached the outskirts of 
the wood, and there he saw an immense multitude of 
men toiling in the bed of a dried-up river. They 
swarmed up the crag like ants. They dug deep pits 
in the ground and went down into them. Some of 
them cleft the rocks with great axes; others grabbled 
in the sand. They tore up the cactus by its roots, and 
trampled on the scarlet blossoms. They hurried 
about, calling to each other, and no man was idle. 

From the darkness of a cavern Death and Avarice 

52 




THE YOUNG KING 

Again and again he came up and each time he did so he brought 
with him a beautiful pearl. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

watched them, and Death said, "I am weary; give 
me a third of them and let me go." 

But Avarice shook her head. "They are my serv- 
ants," she answered. 

And Death said to her, "What hast thou in thy 
hand?' 

"I have three grains of corn," she answered; 
"what is that to thee?" 

"Give me one of them," cried Death, "to plant in 
my garden; only one of them, and I will go away." 

"I will not give thee anything," said Avarice, and 
she hid her hand in the fold of her raiment. 

And Death laughed, and took a cup, and dipped 
it into a pool of water, and out of the cup rose 
Ague. She passed through the great multitude, and 
a third of them lay dead. A cold mist followed her, 
and the water-snakes ran by her side. 

And when Avarice saw that a third of the multi- 
tude was dead she beat her breast and wept. She 
beat her barren bosom, and cried aloud. "Thou hast 
slain a third of my servants," she cried, "get thee 
gone. There is war in the mountains of Tartary, and 
the kings of each side are calling to thee. The 
Afghans have slain the black ox, and are marching to 
battle. They have beaten upon their shields with 
their spears, and have put on their helmets of iron. 
What is my valley to thee, that thou should'st tarry 
in it? Get thee gone and come here no more." 

53 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast given 
me a grain of corn I will not go." 

But Avarice shut her hand, and clenched her teeth. 
"I will not give thee anything," she muttered. 

And Death laughed, and took up a black stone, and 
threw it into the forest, and out of a thicket of wild 
hemlock came Fever in a robe of flame. She passed 
through the multitude, and touched them, and each 
man that she touched died. The grass withered be- 
neath her feet as she walked. 

And Avarice shuddered, and put ashes on her 
head. "Thou art cruel," she cried; "thou art cruel. 
There is famine in the walled cities of India, and the 
cisterns of Samarcand have run dry. There is famine 
in the walled cities of Egypt, and the locusts have 
come up from the desert. The Nile has not over- 
flowed its banks, and the priests have cursed Isis and 
Osiris. Get thee gone to those who need thee, and 
leave me my servants." 

"Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast given 
me a grain of corn I will not go." 

"I will not give thee anything," said Avarice. 

And Death laughed again, and he whistled through 
his fingers, and a woman came flying through the air. 
Plague was written upon her forehead, and a crowd 
of lean vultures wheeled round her. She covered the 
valley with her wings, and no man was left alive. 

And Avarice fled shrieking through the forest, and 

54 




THE YOUNG KING 

And the pilgrim answered, "Look in this mirror, and thou shah see him? 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Death leaped upon his red horse and galloped away, 
and his galloping was faster than the wind. 

And out of the slime at the bottom of the valley 
crept dragons and horrible things with scales, and 
the jackals came trotting along the sand, sniffing up 
the air with their nostrils. 

And the young King wept, and said: "Who were 
these men, and for what were they seeking?" 

"For rubies for a king's crown," answered one 
who stood behind him. 

And the young King started, and, turning round, 
he saw a man habited as a pilgrim and holding in his 
hand a mirror of silver. 

And he grew pale, and said: "For what king?" 

And the pilgrim answered: "Look in this mir- 
ror, and thou shalt see him." 

And he looked in the mirror, and, seeing his own 
face, he gave a great cry and woke, and the bright 
sunlight was streaming into the room, and from the 
trees of the garden and pleasaunce the birds were 
singing. And the Chamberlain and the high officers 
of State came in and made obeisance to him, and the 
pages brought him the robe of tissued gold, and set 
the crown and the scepter before him. 

And the young King looked at them, and they 
were beautiful. More beautiful were they than 
aught that he had ever seen. But he remembered his 

55 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

dreams, and he said to his lords: "Take these things 
away, for I will not wear them." 

And the courtiers were amazed, and some of them 
laughed, for they thought that he was jesting. 

But he spake sternly to them again, and said: 
"Take these things away and hide them from me. 
Though it be the day of my coronation, I will not 
wear them. For on the loom of Sorrow, and by the 
white hands of Pain, has this my robe been woven. 
There is Blood in the heart of the ruby, and Death in 
the heart of the pearl." And he told them his three 
dreams. 

And when the courtiers heard them they looked at 
each other and whispered, saying: "Surely he is 
mad; for what is a dream but a dream, and a vision 
but a vision? They are not real things that one 
should heed them. And what have we to do with 
the lives of those who toil for us? Shall a man not 
eat bread till he has seen the sower, nor drink wine 
till he has talked with the vine-dresser?" 

And the Chamberlain spake to the young King, 
and said, "My lord, I pray thee set aside these black 
thoughts of thine, and put on this fair robe, and set 
this crown upon thy head. For how shall the peo- 
ple know that thou art a king, if thou hast not a king's 
raiment?" 

And the young King looked at him. "Is it so, in- 

56 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

deed?" he questioned. "Will they not know me for 
a king if I have not a king's raiment?" 

"They will not know the?, my lord," cried the 
Chamberlain. 

"I had thought that there had been men who were 
kinglike," he answered, "but it may be as thou sayest. 
And yet I will not wear this robe, nor will I be 
crowned with this crown, but even as I came to the 
palace so will I go forth from it." 

And he bade them all leave him, save one page 
whom he kept as his companion, a lad a year younger 
than himself. Him he kept for his service, and when 
he had bathed himself in clear water, he opened a 
great painted chest, and from it he took the leathern 
tunic and rough sheepskin cloak that he had worn 
when he had watched on the hillside the shaggy 
goats of the goatherd. These he put on, and in his 
hand he took his rude shepherd's staff. 

And the little page opened his big blue eyes in 
wonder, and said smiling to him, "My lord, I see thy 
robe and thy scepter, but where is thy crown?" 

And the young King plucked a spray of wild briar 
that was climbing over the balcony, and bent it, and 
made a circlet of it, and set it on his own head. 

"This shall be my crown," he answered. And thus 
attired he passed out of his chamber into the Great 
Hall, where the nobles were waiting for him. 

And the nobles made merry, and some of them 

57 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

cried out to him, "My lord, the people wait for their 
King, and thou showest them a beggar," and others 
were wroth and said, "He brings shame upon our 
state, and is unworthy to be our master." But he 
answered them not a word, but passed on, and went 
down the bright prophyry staircase, and out through 
the gates of bronze, and mounted upon his horse, and 
rode towards the cathedral, the little page running 
beside him. 

And the people laughed and said, "It is the King's 
fool who is riding by," and they mocked him. 

And he drew rein and said, "Nay, but I am the 
King." And he told them his three dreams. 

And a man came out of the crowd and spake bit- 
terly to him, and said, "Sir, knowest thou not that 
out of the luxury of the rich cometh the life of the 
poor? By your pomp we are nurtured, and your 
vices give us bread. To toil for a hard master is 
bitter, but to have no master to toil for is more bitter 
still. Thinkest thou that the ravens will feed us? 
And what cure hast thou for these things? Wilt 
thou say to the buyer, 'Thou shalt buy for so much,' 
and to the seller, 'Thou shalt sell at this price?' I 
trow not. Therefore go back to thy palace and put 
on thy purple and fine linen. What hast thou to do 
with us, and what we suffer?" 

"Are not the rich and the poor brothers?" asked 
the young King. 

S8 




THE YOUNG KING 

Thus attired, he passed out of his chamber and into the Great 
Hall where the nobles were waiting 1 fur him. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Aye," answered the man, "and the name of the 
rich brother is Cain." 

And the young King's eyes filled with tears, and 
he rode on through the murmurs of the people, and 
the little page grew afraid and left him. 

And when he reached the great portal of the cathe- 
dral, the soldiers thrust their halberts out and said, 
"What dost thou seek here? None enters by this 
door but the King." 

And his face flushed with anger, and he said to 
them, "I am the King," and waved their halberts 
aside and passed in. 

And when the old Bishop saw him coming in his 
goatherd's dress, he rose up in wonder from his 
throne, and went to meet him, and said to him, "My 
son, is this a king's apparel? And with what crown 
shall I crown thee, and what scepter shall I place 
in thy hand? Surely this should be to thee a day 
of joy, and not a day of abasement." 

"Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned?" said 
the young King. And he told him his three dreams. 

And when the Bishop had heard them he knit his 
brows, and said, "My son, I am an old man, and in 
the winter of my days, and I know that many evil 
things are done in the wide world. The fierce robbers 
come down from the mountains, and carry off the 
little children, and sell them to the Moors. The 
lions lie in wait for the caravans, and leap upon the 

59 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

camels. The wild boar roots up the corn in the val- 
ley, and the foxes gnaw the vines upon the hill. The 
pirates lay waste the seacoast and burn the ships of 
the fishermen, and take their nets from them. In 
the salt-marshes live the lepers; they have houses 
of wattled reeds, and none may come nigh them. The 
beggars wander through the cities, and eat their food 
with the dogs. Canst thou make these things not to 
be? Wilt thou take the leper for thy bedfellow, 
and set the beggar at thy board? Shall the lion do 
thy bidding, and the wild boar obey thee? Is not 
He who made misery wiser than thou art? Where- 
fore I praise thee not for this that thou hast done, 
but I bid thee ride back to the Palace and make thy 
face glad, and put on the raiment that beseemeth a 
king, and with the crown of gold I will crown thee, 
and the scepter of pearl will I place in thy hand. 
And as for thy dreams, think no more of them. The 
burden of this world is too great for one man to 
bear, and the world's sorrow too heavy for one heart 
to suffer." 

"Sayest thou that in this house?" said the young 
King, and he strode past the Bishop, and climbed up 
the steps of the altar, and stood before the image of 
Christ. 

He stood before the image of Christ, and on his 
right hand and on his left were the marvelous ves- 
sels of gold, the chalice with the yellow wine, and 

60 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the vial with the holy oil. He knelt before the image 
of Christ, and the great candles burned brightly by 
the jeweled shrine, and the smoke of the incense 
curled in thin blue wreaths through the dome. He 
bowed his head in prayer, and the priests in their 
stiff copes crept away from the altar. 

And suddenly a wild tumult came from the street 
outside, and in entered the nobles with drawn swords 
and nodding plumes, and shields of polished steel. 
"Where is this dreamer of dreams?" they cried. 
"Where is this King, who is appareled like a beg- 
gar — this boy who brings shame upon our state? 
Surely we will slay him, for he is unworthy to rule 
over us." 

And the young King bowed his head again, and 
prayed, and when he had finished his prayer he rose 
up, and turning round he looked at them sadly. 

And lo! through the painted window came the sun- 
light streaming upon him, and the sunbeams wove 
round him a tissued robe that was fairer than the 
robe that had been fashioned for his pleasure. The 
dead staff blossomed, and bore lilies that were whiter 
than pearls. The dry thorn blossomed, and bore 
roses that were redder than rubies. Whiter than fine 
pearls were the lilies, and their stems were of bright 
silver. Redder than male rubies were the roses, and 
their leaves were of beaten gold. 

He stood there in the raiment of a king, and the 

61 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

gates of the jeweled shrine flew open, and from the 
crystal of the many-rayed monstrance shone a mar- 
velous and mystical light. He stood there in a king's 
raiment, and the Glory of God filled the place, and 
the Saints in their carven niches seemed to move. In 
the fair raiment of a king he stood before them, and 
the organ pealed out its music, and the trumpeters 
blew upon their trumpets, and the singing boys 
sang. 

And the people fell upon their knees in awe, and 
the nobles sheathed their swords and did homage, 
and the Bishop's face grew pale, and his hands trem- 
bled. "A greater than I hath crowned thee," he cried, 
and he knelt before him. 

And the young King came down from the high 
altar, and passed home through the midst of the peo- 
ple. But no man dared look upon his face, for it 
was like the face of an angel. 



62 



THE STAR-CHILD 



THE STAR-CHILD 

ONCE upon a time two poor Wood-cutters were 
making their way home through a great pine- 
forest. It was winter, and a night of bitter cold. 
The snow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the 
branches of the tree: the frost kept snapping the lit- 
tle twigs on either side of them, as they passed: and 
when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was 
hanging motionless in air, for the Ice-King had 
kissed her. 

So cold was it that even the animals and the birds 
did not know what to make of it. 

"Ugh!" snarled the Wolf, as he limped through 
the brushwood with his tail between his legs, "this 
is perfectly monstrous weather. Why doesn't the 
Government look to it?" 

"Weet! weet! weet!" twittered the green Linnets, 
"the Old Earth is dead, and they have laid her out in 
her white shroud." 

"The Earth is going to u^ married, and this is her 
bridal dress," Whispered the Turtle-doves to each 
other. Their little pink feet were quite frost-bitten, 
but they felt that it was their duty to take a romantic 
view of the situation. 

65 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Nonsense!" growled the Wolf. "I tell you that 
it is all the fault of the Government, and if you don't 
believe me I shall eat you." The Wolf had a thor- 
oughly practical mind, and was never at a loss for a 
good argument. 

"Well, for my own part," said the Woodpecker, 
who was a born philosopher, "I don't care an atomic 
theory for explanations. If a thing is so, it is so, and 
at present it is terribly cold." 

Terribly cold it certainly was. The little Squir- 
rels, who lived inside the tall fir-tree, kept rubbing 
each other's noses to keep themselves warm, and the 
Rabbits curled themselves up in their holes, and did 
not venture even to look out of doors. The only 
people who seemed to enjoy it were the great horned 
Owls. Their feathers were quite stiff with rime, but 
they did not mind, and they rolled their large yel- 
low eyes, and called out to each other across the for- 
est, "Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! 
what delightful weather we are having!" 

On and on went the two Woodcutters, blowing 
lustily upon their fingers, and stamping with their 
huge iron-shod boots upon the caked snow. Once 
they sank into a deep drift, and came out as white as 
millers are, when the stones are grinding; and once 
they slipped on the hard smooth ice where the marsh- 
water was frozen, and their faggots fell out of their 
bundles and they had to pick them up and bind them 

66 




THE STAR CHILD 

There fell from heaven a bright and beautiful star. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

together again ; and once they thought that they had 
lost their way, and a great terror seized on them, for 
they knew that the Snow is cruel to those who sleep 
in her arms. But they put their trust in the good 
Saint Martin, who watches over all travelers, and 
retraced their steps, and went warily, and at last they 
reached the outskirts of the forest, and saw, far down 
in the valley beneath them, the lights of the village 
in which they dwelt. 

So overjoyed were they at their deliverance that 
they laughed aloud, and the Earth seemed to them 
like a flower of silver, and the Moon like a flower 
of gold. 

Yet, after that they had laughed they became sad, 
for they remembered their poverty, and one of them 
said to the other, "Why did we make merry, seeing 
that life is for the rich, and not for such as we are? 
Better that we had died of cold in the forest, or that 
some wild beast had fallen upon us and slain us." 

"Truly," answered his companion, "much is given 
to some, and little is given to others. Injustice has 
parceled out the world, nor is there equal division of 
aught save of sorrow." 

But as they were bewailing their misery to each 
other this strange thing happened. There fell from 
heaven a very bright and beautiful star. It slipped 
down the side of the sky, passing by the other stars 
in its course, and, as they watched it wondering, it 

67 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

seemed to them to sink behind a clump of willow- 
trees that stood hard by a little sheepfold no more 
than a stone's throw away. 

"Why! there is a crock of gold for whoever finds 
it," they cried, and they set to and ran, so eager were 
they for the gold. 

And one of them ran faster than his mate, and out- 
stripped him, and forced his way through the wil- 
lows, and came out on the other side, and lo! there 
was indeed a thing of gold lying on the white snow. 
So he hastened toward it, and stooping down placed 
his hands upon it, and it was a cloak of golden tissue, 
curiously wrought with stars, and wrapped in many 
folds. And he cried out to his comrade that he had 
found the treasure that had fallen from the sky, and 
when his comrade had come up, they sat them down 
in the snow, and loosened the folds of the cloak that 
they might divide the pieces of gold. But, alas! no 
gold was in it, nor silver, nor, indeed, treasure of any 
kind, but only a little child who was asleep. 

And one of them said to the other: "This is a bit- 
ter ending to our hope, nor have we any good for- 
tune, for what doth a child profit to a man? Let 
us leave it here, and go our way, seeing that we are 
poor men, and have children of our own whose bread 
we may not give to another." 

But his companion answered him: "Nay, but it 
were an evil thing to leave the child to perish here 

68 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

in the snow, and though I am as poor as thou art, 
and have many mouths to feed, and but little in the 
pot, yet will I bring it home with me, and my wife 
shall have care of it." 

So very tenderly he took up the child and wrapped 
the cloak around it to shield it from the harsh cold, 
and made his way down the hill to the village, his 
comrade marveling much at his foolishness and soft- 
ness of heart. 

And when they came to the village, his comrade 
said to him, "Thou hast the child, therefore give me 
the cloak, for it is meet that we should share." 

But he answered him: "Nay, for the cloak is 
neither mine nor thine, but the child's only," and he 
bade him Godspeed, and went to his own house and 
knocked. 

And when his wife opened the door and saw that 
her husband had returned safe to her, she put her 
arms round his neck and kissed him, and took from 
his back the bundle of faggots, and brushed the snow 
off his boots, and bade him come in. 

But he said to her, "I have found something in 
the forest, and I have brought it to thee to have care 
of it," and he stirred not from the threshold. 

"What is it?" she cried. "Show it to me, for the 
house is bare, and we have need of many things." 
And he drew the cloak back and showed her the 
sleeping child. 

6 9 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Alack, goodman!" she murmured, "have we not 
children enough of our own, that thou must needs 
bring a changeling to sit by the hearth? And who 
knows if it will not bring us bad fortune? And how 
shall we tend it?" And she was wroth against him. 

"Nay, but it is a Star-Child," he answered; and he 
told her the strange manner of the finding of it. 

But she would not be appeased, but mocked at 
him, and spoke angrily, and cried: "Our children 
lack bread, and shall we feed the child of another? 
Who is there who careth for us? And who giveth us 
food?" 

"Nay, but God careth for the sparrows even, and 
feedeth them," he answered. 

"Do not the sparrows die of hunger in the winter?" 
she asked. "And is it not winter now?" And the 
man answered nothing, but stirred not from the 
threshold. 

And a bitter wind from the forest came in through 
the open door, and made her tremble, and she quiv- 
ered, and said to him: "Wilt thou not close the door? 
There cometh a bitter wind into the house, and I am 
cold." 

"Into a house where a heart is hard cometh there 
not always a bitter wind?" he asked. And the woman 
answered him nothing, but crept closer to the fire. 

And after a time she turned round and looked at 
him, and her eyes were full of tears. And he came 

70 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

in swiftly, and placed the child in her arms, and she 
kissed it, and laid it in a little bed where the youngest 
of their own children was lying. And on the morrow 
the Woodcutter took the curious cloak of gold and 
placed it in a great chest, and a chain of amber that 
was round the child's neck his wife took and set it in 
the chest also. 

So the Star-Child was brought up with the chil- 
dren of the Woodcutter, and sat at the same board with 
them, and was their playmate. And every year he 
became more beautiful to look at, so that all those 
who dwelt in the village were filled with wonder, 
for, while they were swarthy and black-haired, he 
was white and delicate as sawn ivory, and his curls 
were like the rings of the daffodil. His lips, also, 
were like the petals of a red flower, and his eyes were 
like violets by a river of pure water, and his body like 
the narcissus of a field where the mower comes not. 

Yet did his beauty work him evil. For he grew 
proud, and cruel, and selfish. The children of the 
Woodcutter, and the other children of the village, 
he despised, saying that they were of mean parentage, 
while he was noble, being sprung from a Star, and he 
made himself master over them and called them his 
servants. No pity had he for the poor, or for those 
who were blind or maimed or in any way afflicted, 
but would cast stones at them and drive them forth 

7i 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

on to the highway, and bid them beg their bread else- 
where, so that none save outlaws came twice to that 
village to ask for alms. Indeed, he was as one 
enamored of beauty, and would mock at the weakly 
and ill-favored, and make jest of them; and himself 
he loved, and in summer, when the winds were still, 
he would lie by the well in the priest's orchard and 
look down at the marvel of his own face, and laugh 
for the pleasure he had in his fairness. 

Often did the Woodcutter and his wife chide him, 
and say: "We did not deal with thee as thou dealest 
jvvith those who are left desolate, and have none to 
succor them. Wherefore art thou so cruel to all who 
need pity?" 

Often did the old priest send for him, and seek to 
teach him the love of living things, saying to him : 
"The fly is thy brother. Do it no harm. The wild 
birds that roam through the forest have their free- 
dom. Snare them not for thy pleasure. God made 
the blind-worm and the mole, and each has its place. 
Who art thou to bring pain into God's world? Even 
the cattle of the field praise him." 

But the Star-Child heeded not their words, but 
would frown and flout, and go back to his compan- 
ions, and lead them. And his companions followed 
him, for he was fair, and fleet of foot, and could 
dance, and pipe, and make music. And wherever the 
Star-Child led them they followed, and whatever the 

72 




THE STAR CHILD 

But zohen he had reached the outskirts of the wood, he heard from a 
thicket as of some one in pain. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Star-Child bade them do, that did they. And when 
he pierced with a sharp reed the dim eyes of the mole, 
they laughed, and when he cast stones at the leper 
they laughed also. And in all things he ruled them, 
and they became hard of heart, even as he was. 

Now there passed one day through the village a 
poor beggar-woman. Her garments were torn and 
ragged, and her feet were bleeding from the rough 
road on which she had traveled, and she was in very 
evil plight. And being weary she sat her down un- 
der a chestnut-tree to rest. 

But when the Star-Child saw her, he said to his 
companions, "See! There sitteth a foul beggar- 
woman under that fair and green-leaved tree. Come, 
let us drive her hence, for she is ugly and ill- 
favored." 

So he came near and threw stones at her, and 
mocked her, and she looked at him with terror in 
her eyes, nor did she move her gaze from him. And 
when the Woodcutter, who was cleaving logs in a 
haggard hard by, saw what the Star-Child was do- 
ing, he ran up and rebuked him, and said to him: 
"Surely thou art hard of heart, and knowest not 
mercy, for what evil has this poor woman done to 
thee that thou should'st treat her in this wise?" 

And the Star-Child grew red with anger, and 
stamped his foot upon the ground, and said, "Who 

73 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

art thou to question me what I do? I am no son of 
thine to do thy bidding." 

"Thou speakest truly," answered the Woodcutter, 
"yet did I show thee pity when I found thee in the 
forest." 

And when the woman heard these words she gave 
a loud cry, and fell into a swoon. And the Wood- 
cutter carried her to his own house, and his wife had 
care of her, and when she rose up from the swoon 
into which she had fallen, they set meat and drink 
before her, and bade her have comfort. 

But she would neither eat nor drink, but said to 
the Woodcutter, "Didst thou not say that the child 
was found in the forest? And was it not ten years 
from this day?" 

And the Woodcutter answered, "Yea, it was in the 
forest that I found him, and it is ten years from this 
day." 

"And what signs didst thou find with him?" she 
cried. "Bore he not upon his neck a chain of amber? 
Was not round him a cloak of gold tissue broidered 
with stars?" 

"Truly," answered the Woodcutter, "it was even 
as thou sayest.' And he took the cloak and the amber 
chain from the chest where they lay, and showed 
them to her. 

And when she saw them she wept for joy, and said, 
"He is my little son whom I lost in the forest. I 

74 




THE STAR CHILD 

''Nay. but thou art indeed my little son, whom I bare in the forest", 
she cried, and she fell on her lenees, and held out her arms to him. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

pray thee send for him quickly, for in search of him 
have I wandered over the whole world." 

So the Woodcutter and his wife went out and 
called to the Star-Child, and said to him, "Go into 
the house, and there shalt thou find thy mother, who 
is waiting for thee." 

So he ran in, filled with wonder and great glad- 
ness. But when he saw her who was waiting there, 
he laughed scornfully and said, "Why, where is my 
mother? For I see none here but this vile beggar- 
woman." 

And the woman answered him, "I am thy mother." 

"Thou art mad to say so," cried the Star-Child 
angrily. "I am no son of thine, for thou art a beg- 
gar, and ugly, and in rags. Therefore get thee hence, 
and let me see thy foul face no more." 

"Nay, but thou art indeed my little son, whom I 
bore in the forest," she cried, and she fell on her 
knees, and held out her arms to him. "The robbers 
stole thee from me, and left thee to die," she mur- 
mured, "but I recognized thee when I saw thee, and 
the signs also have I recognized, the cloak of golden 
tissue and the amber chain. Therefore I pray thee 
come with me, for over the whole world have I wan- 
dered in search of thee. Come with me, my son, 
for I have need of thy love." 

But the Star-Child stirred not from his place, but 
shut the doors of his heart against her, nor was there 

75 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

any sound heard save the sound of the woman weep- 
ing for pain. 

And at last he spoke to her, and his voice was hard 
and bitter. "If in very truth thou art my mother," 
he said, "it had been better hadst thou stayed away, 
and not come here to bring me to shame, seeing that 
I thought I was the child of some Star, and not a 
beggar's child, as thou tellest me that I am. There- 
fore get thee hence, and let me see thee no more." 

"Alas! my son," she cried, "wilt thou not kiss me 
before I go? For I have suffered much to find 
thee." 

"Nay," said the Star-Child, "but thou art too foul 
to look at, and rather would I kiss the adder or the 
toad than thee." 

So the woman rose up, and went away into the 
forest weeping bitterly, and when the Star-Child saw 
that she had gone, he was glad, and ran back to his 
playmates that he might play with them. 

But when they beheld him coming, they mocked 
him and said, "Why thou art as foul as the toad, and 
as loathsome as the adder. Get thee hence, for we 
will not suffer thee to play with us," and they drave 
him out of the garden. 

And the Star-Child frowned and said to himself, 
"What is this that they say to me? I will go to the 
well of water and look into it, and it shall tell me of 
my beauty." 

7 6 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

So he went to the well of water and looked into it, 
and lo! his face was as the face of a toad, and his body 
was scaled like an adder. And he flung himself down 
on the grass and wept, and said to himself, "Surely 
this has come upon me by reason of my sin. For I 
have denied my mother, and driven her away, and 
been proud, and cruel to her. Wherefore I will go 
and seek her through the whole world, nor will I 
rest till I have found her." 

And there came to him the little daughter of the 
Woodcutter, and she put her hand upon his shoulder 
and said, "What does it matter if thou hast lost thy 
comeliness? Stay with us, and I will not mock at 
thee." 

And he said to her, "Nay, but I have been cruel 
to my mother, and as a punishment has this evil been 
sent to me. Wherefore I must go hence, and wander 
through the world till I find her, and she give me her 
forgiveness." 

So he ran away into the forest and called out to 
his mother to come to him, but there was no answer. 
All day long he called to her, and when the sun set 
he lay down to sleep on a bed of leaves, and the birds 
and the animals fled from him, for they remembered 
his cruelty, and he was alone save for the toad that 
watched him, and the slow adder that crawled past. 

And in the morning he rose up, and plucked some 
bitter berries from the trees and ate them, and took 

77 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

his way through the great wood, weeping sorely. 
And of everything that he met he made inquiry if 
perchance they had seen his mother. 

He said to the Mole, "Thou canst go beneath the 
earth. Tell me, is my mother there?" 

And the Mole answered, "Thou hast blinded mine 
eyes. How should I know?" 

He said to the Linnet, "Thou canst fly over the 
tops of the tall trees, and canst see the whole world. 
Tell me, canst thou see my mother?" 

And the Linnet answered, "Thou hast dipt my 
wings for thy pleasure. How should I fly?" 

And to the little Squirrel who lived in the fir-tree, 
and was lonely, he said, "Where is my mother?" 

And the Squirrel answered, "Thou hast slain mine. 
Dost thou seek to slay thine also?" 

And the Star-Child wept and bowed his head and 
prayed forgiveness of God's things, and went on 
through the forest, seeking for the beggar-woman. 
And on the third day he came to the other side of 
the forest and went down into the plain. 

And when he passed through the villages the chil- 
dren mocked him, and threw stones at him, and the 
carlots would not suffer him to sleep in the byres lest 
he might bring mildew on the stored corn, so foul 
was he to look at, and their hired men drave him 
away, and there was none who had pity on him. Nor 
could he hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who 

78 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

was his mother, though for the space of three years 
he wandered over the world, and often seemed to 
see her on the road in front of him, and would call 
to her, and run after her till the sharp flints made his 
feet to bleed. But overtake her he could not, and 
those who dwelt by the way did ever deny that they 
had seen her, or any like to her, and they made sport 
of his sorrow. 

For the space of three years he wandered over 
the world, and in the world there was neither love 
nor loving-kindness nor charity for him, but it was 
even such a world as he had made for himself in the 
days of his great pride. 

And one evening he came to the gate of a strong- 
walled city that stood by a river, and, weary and foot- 
sore though he was, he made to enter in. But the 
soldiers who stood on guard dropped their halberts 
across the entrance, and said roughly to him, "What 
is thy business in the city?" 

"I am seeking for my mother," he answered, "and 
I pray ye to suffer me to pass, for it may be that she 
is in this city." 

But they mocked at him, and one of them wagged 
a black beard, and set down his shield and cried, 
"Of a truth, thy mother will not be merry when 
she sees thee, for thou art more ill-favored than 
the toad of the marsh, or the adder that crawls in the 

79 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

fen. Get thee gone. Get thee gone. Thy mother 
dwells not in this city." 

And another, who held a yellow banner in his 
hand, said to him, "Who is thy mother, and where- 
fore art thou seeking for her?" 

And he answered, "My mother is a beggar even as 
I am, and I have treated her evilly, and I pray ye to 
suffer me to pass that she may give me her forgive- 
ness, if it be that she tarrieth in this city." But they 
would not, and pricked him with their spears. 

And, as he turned away weeping, one whose armor 
was inlaid with gilt flowers, and on whose helmet 
couched a lion that had wings, came up and made 
inquiry of the soldiers who it was who had sought 
entrance. And they said to him, "It is a beggar and 
the child of a beggar, and we have driven him away." 

"Nay," he cried, laughing, "but we will sell the 
foul thing for a slave, and his price shall be the price 
of a bowl of sweet wine." 

And an old and evil-visaged man who was pass- 
ing by called out, and said, "I will buy him for that 
price," and, when he had paid the price, he took the 
Star-Child by the hand and led him into the city. 

And after that they had gone through many streets 
they came to a little door that was set in a wall that 
was covered with a pomegranate tree. And the old 
man touched the door with a ring of graved jasper 
and it opened, and they went down five steps of brass 

80 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

into a garden filled with black poppies and jars of 
burnt clay. And the old man took then from his 
turban a scarf of figured silk, and bound with it the 
eyes of the Star-Child, and drave him in front of 
him. And when the scarf was taken off his eyes, 
the Star-Child found himself in a dungeon, that was 
lit by a lantern of horn. 

And the old man set before him some moldy bread 
on a trencher and said, "Eat," and some brackish wa- 
ter in a cup and said, "Drink," and when he had 
eaten and drunk, the old man went out, locking the 
door behind him and fastening it with an iron chain. 

And on the morrow the old man, who was indeed 
the subtlest of the magicians of Libya and had 
learned his art from one who dwelt in the tombs of 
the Nile, came in to him and frowned at him, and 
said, "In a wood that is nigh to the gate of this city 
of Giaours there are three pieces of gold. One is of 
white gold, and another is of yellow gold, and the 
gold of the third one is red. To-day thou shalt bring 
me the piece of white gold, and if thou bringest 
it not back, I will beat thee with a hundred stripes. 
Get thee away quickly, and at sunset I will be wait- 
ing for thee at the door of the garden. See that thou 
bringest the white gold, or it shall go ill with thee, 
for thou art my slave, and I have bought thee for the 
price of a bowl of sweet wine." And he bound the 

81 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

eyes of the Star-Child with the scarf of figured silk, 
and led him through the house, and through the gar- 
den of poppies, and up the five steps of brass. And 
having opened the little door with his ring he set 
him in the street. 

And the Star-Child went out of the gate of the city, 
and came to the wood of which the Magician had 
spoken to him. 

Now this wood was very fair to look at from with- 
out, and seemed full of singing birds and of sweet- 
scented flowers, and the Star-Child entered it gladly. 
Yet did its beauty profit him little, for wherever he 
went harsh briars and thorns shot up from the ground 
and encompassed him, and evil nettles stung him, 
and the thistle pierced him with her daggers, so that 
he was in sore distress. Nor could he anywhere find 
the piece of white gold of which the Magician had 
spoken, though he sought for it from morn to noon, 
and from noon to sunset. And at sunset he set his 
face towards home, weeping bitterly, for he knew 
what fate was in store for him. 

But when he had reached the outskirts of the 
wood, he heard from a thicket a cry as of some one 
in pain. And forgetting his own sorrow he ran back 
to the place, and saw there a little Hare caught in 
a trap that some hunter had set for it. 

And the Star-Child had pity on it, and released 

82 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

it, and said to it, "I am myself but a slave, yet may 
I give thee thy freedom?" 

And the Hare answered him, and said: "Surely 
thou hast given me freedom, and what shall I give 
thee in return?" 

And the Star-Child said to it, "I am seeking for 
a piece of white gold, nor can I anywhere find it, and 
if I bring it not to my master he will beat me." 

"Come thou with me," said the Hare, "and I will 
lead thee to it, for I know where it is hidden, and 
for what purpose." 

So the Star-Child went with the Hare, and lo! 
in the cleft of a great oak-tree he saw the piece of 
white gold that he was seeking. And he was filled 
with joy, and seized it, and said to the Hare, "The 
service that I did to thee thou hast rendered back 
again many times over, and the kindness that I 
showed thee thou hast repaid a hundred-fold." 

"Nay," answered the Hare, "but as thou dealt with 
me, so I did deal with thee," and it ran away quickly, 
and the Star-Child went towards the city. 

Now at the gate of the city there was seated one 
who was a leper. Over his face hung a cowl of gray 
linen, and through the eyelets his eyes gleamed like 
red coals. And when he saw the Star-Child coming, 
he struck upon a wooden bowl, and clattered his bell, 
and called out to him, and said, "Give me a piece of 
money, or I must die of hunger. For they have thrust 

83 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

me out of the city, and there is no one who has pity 
on me." 

"Alas!" cried the Star-Child, "I have but one piece 
of money in my wallet, and if I bring it not to my 
master he will beat me, for I am his slave." 

But the leper entreated him, and prayed of him, 
till the Star-Child had pity, and gave him the piece 
of white gold. 

And when he came to the Magician's house, the 
Magician opened to him, and brought him in, and 
said to him, "Hast thou the piece of white gold?" 
and the Star-Child answered, "I have it not." So 
the Magician fell upon him, and beat him, and set 
before him an empty trencher, and said, "Eat," and 
an empty cup, and said, "Drink," and flung him 
again into the dungeon. 

And on the morrow the Magician came to him, 
and said, "If to-day thou bringest me not the piece 
of yellow gold, I will surely keep thee as my slave, 
and give thee three hundred stripes." 

So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day 
long he searched for the piece of yellow gold, but 
nowhere could he find it. And at sunset he sat him 
down and began to weep, and as he was weeping 
there came to him the little Hare that he had rescued 
from the trap. 

And the Hare said to him, "Why art thou weep- 
ing? And what dost thou seek in the wood?" 

84 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

And the Star-Child answered, "I am seeking for 
a piece of yellow gold that is hidden here, and if I 
find it not my master will beat me, and keep me as 
a slave." 

"Follow me," cried the Hare, and it ran through 
the wood till it came to a pool of water. And at 
the bottom of the pool the piece of yellow gold was 

lying- 

"How shall I thank thee?" said the Star-Child, 
"for lo! this is the second time that you have suc- 
cored me." 

"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said the 
Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 

And the Star-Child took the piece of yellow gold, 
and put it in his wallet, and hurried to the city. But 
the leper saw him coming, and ran to meet him, and 
knelt down and cried, "Give me a piece of money or 
I shall die of hunger." 

And the Star-Child said to him, "I have in my 
wallet but one piece of yellow gold, and if I bring 
it not to my master he will beat me and keep me as his 
slave." 

But the leper entreated him sore, so that the Star- 
Child had pity on him, and gave him the piece of 
yellow gold. 

And when he came to the Magician's house, the 
Magician opened to him and brought him in, and 
said to him, "Hast thou the piece of yellow gold?" 

85 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

And the Star-Child said to him, "I have it not." So 
the Magician fell upon him, and beat him, and 
loaded him with chains, and cast him again into the 
dungeon. 

And on the morrow the Magician came to him, 
and said, "If to-day thou bringest me the piece of 
red gold I will set thee free, but if thou bringest it 
not I will surely slay thee." 

So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day 
long he searched for the piece of red gold, but no- 
where could he find it. And at evening he sat him 
down, and wept, and as he was weeping there came 
to him the little Hare. 

And the Hare said to him, "The piece of red gold 
that thou seekest is in the cavern that is behind thee. 
Therefore weep no more but be glad." 

"How shall I reward thee," cried the Star-Child, 
"for lo! this is the third time thou hast succored me." 

"Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said the 
Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 

And the Star-Child entered the cavern, and in its 
farthest corner he found the piece of red gold. So 
he put it in his wallet, and hurried to the city. And 
the leper seeing him coming, stood in the center of 
the road, and cried out, and said to him, "Give me 
the piece of red money, or I must die," and the Star- 
Child had pity on him again, and gave him the piece 
of red gold, saying, "Thy need is greater than mine." 

86 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Yet was his heart heavy, for he knew what evil fate 
awaited him. 

But lo! as he passed through the gate of the city, 
the guards bowed down and made obeisance to him, 
saying, "How beautiful is our lord!" and a crowd 
of citizens followed him, and cried out, "Surely 
there is none so beautiful in the whole world!" so 
that the Star-Child wept, and said to himself, "They 
are mocking me, and making light of my misery." 
And so large was the concourse of the people, that 
he lost the threads of his way, and found himself at 
last in a great square, in which there was a palace 
of a King. 

And the gate of the palace opened, and the priests 
and the high officers of the city ran forth to meet 
him, and they abased themselves before him, and 
said, "Thou art our lord for whom we have been 
waiting, and the son of our King." 

And the Star-Child answered them and said, "I 
am no king's son, but the child of a poor beggar- 
woman. And how say ye that I am beautiful, for 
I know that I am evil to look at?" 

Then he, whose armor was inlaid with gilt flowers, 
and on whose helmet couched a lion that had wings, 
held up a shield, and cried, "How saith my lord 
that he is not beautiful?" 

And the Star-Child looked, and lo! his face was 
even as it had been, and his comeliness had come 

87 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

back to him, and he saw that in his eyes which he 
had not seen there before. 

And the priests and the high officers knelt down 
and said to him, "It was prophesied of old that on 
this day should come he who was to rule over us. 
Therefore, let our lord take this crown and this scep- 
ter, and be in his justice and mercy our King over 
us." 

But he said to them, "I am not worthy, for I have 
denied the mother who bare me, nor may I rest till 
I have found her, and known her forgiveness. 
Therefore, let me go, for I must wander again over 
the world, and may not tarry here, though ye bring 
me the crown and the scepter." And as he spake he 
turned his face from them towards the street that led 
to the gate of the city, and lo! amongst the crowd that 
pressed round the soldiers, he saw the beggar-woman 
who was his mother, and at her side stood the leper, 
who had sat by the road. 

And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he ran 
over, and kneeling down he kissed the wounds on his 
mother's feet, and wet them with his tears. He 
bowed his head in the dust, and sobbing, as one whose 
heart might break, he said to her: "Mother, I denied 
thee in the hour of my pride. Accept me in the hour 
of my humility. Mother, I gave thee hatred. Do 
thou give me love. Mother, I rejected thee. Re- 

88 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 



ceive thy child now." But the beggar-woman an- 
swered him not a word. 

And he reached out his hands, and clasped the 
white feet of the leper, and said to him: "Thrice did 
I give thee of my mercy. Bid my mother speak to 
me once." But the leper answered him not a word. 

And he sobbed again, and said: "Mother, my suf- 
fering is greater than I can bear. Give me thy for- 
giveness, and let me go back to the forest." And the 
beggar-woman put her hand on his head, and said 
to him, "Rise," and the leper put his hand on his 
head, and said to him "Rise," also. 

And he rose up from his feet, and looked at them, 
and lo! they were a King and a Queen. 

And the Queen said to him, "This is thy father 
whom thou hast succored." 

And the King said, "This is thy mother, whose 
feet thou hast washed with thy tears." 

And they fell on his neck and kissed him, and 
brought him into the palace, and clothed him in fair 
raiment, and set the crown upon his head, and the 
scepter in his hand, and over the city that stood by 
the river he ruled, and was its lord. Much justice 
and mercy did he show to all, and the evil Magician 
he banished, and to the Woodcutter and his wife he 
sent many rich gifts, and to their children he gave 
high honor. Nor would he suffer any to be cruel 
to bird or beast, but taught love and loving-kindness 

8 9 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and charity, and to the poor he gave bread, and to 
the naked he gave raiment, and there was peace and 
plenty in the land. 

Yet ruled he not long, so great had been his suf- 
fering, and so bitter the fire of his testing, for after 
the space of three years he died. And he who came 
after him ruled evilly. 



90 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 



THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

EVERY evening the young Fisherman went out 
upon the sea, and threw his nets into the water. 

When the wind blew from the land he caught 
nothing, or but little at best, for it was a bitter and 
blackwinged wind, and rough waves rose up to meet 
it. But when the wind blew to the shore, the fish 
came in from the deep, and swam into the meshes 
of his nets, and he took them to the market-place and 
sold them. 

Every evening he went out upon the sea, and one 
evening the net was so heavy that hardly could he 
draw it into the boat. And he laughed, and said to 
himself, "Surely I have caught all the fish that swim, 
or snared some dull monster that will be a marvel 
to men, or some thing of horror that the great Queen 
will desire," and putting forth all his strength, he 
tugged at the coarse ropes till, like lines of blue 
enamel round a vase of bronze, the long veins rose 
up on his arms. He tugged at the thin ropes, and 
nearer and nearer came the circle of flat corks, and 
the net rose at last to the top of the water. 

But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or 

93 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

thing of horror, but only a little mermaid lying fast 
asleep. 

Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each 
separate hair as a thread of fine gold in a cup of glass. 
Her body was as white ivory, and her tail was of 
silver and pearl. Silver and pearl was her tail, and 
the green weeds of the sea coiled round it; and like 
sea-shells were her ears, and her lips were like sea- 
coral. The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, 
and the salt glistened upon her eyelids. 

So beautiful was she that when the young Fisher- 
man saw her he was filled with wonder, and he put 
out his hand and drew the net close to him, and lean- 
ing over the side he clasped her in his arms. And 
when he touched her, she gave a cry like a startled 
sea-gull and woke, and looked at him in terror with 
her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled that she 
might escape. But he held her tightly to him, and 
would not suffer her to depart. 

And when she saw that she could in no way escape 
from him, she began to weep, and said, "I pray thee 
let me go, for I am the only daughter of a King, and 
my father is aged and alone." 

But the young Fisherman answered, "I will not let 
thee go save thou makest me a promise that whenever 
I call thee, thou wilt come and sing to me, for the 
fish delight to listen to the song of the Sea-folk, and 
so shall my nets be full." 

94 




THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
'I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter of a 
King, and my father is aged and alone. ' ' 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Wilt thou in very truth let me go, if I promise 
thee this?" cried the Mermaid. 

"In very truth I will let thee go," said the young 
Fisherman. 

So she made him the promise he desired, and 
sware it by the oath of the Sea-folk. And he loos- 
ened his arms from about her, and she sank down 
into the water, trembling with a strange fear. 

Every evening the young Fisherman went out 
upon the sea, and called to the Mermaid, and she 
rose out of the water and sang to him. Round and 
round her swam the dolphins, and the wild gulls 
wheeled above her head. 

And she sang a marvelous song. For she sang of 
the Sea-folk who drive their flocks from cave to cave, 
and carry the little calves on their shoulders; of the 
Tritons who have long green beards, and hairy 
breasts, and blow through twisted conchs when the 
King passes by; of the palace of the King which is 
all of amber, with a roof of clear emerald, and a 
pavement of bright pearl; and of the gardens of the 
sea where the great filigrane fans of coral wave all 
day long, and the fish dart about like silver birds, and 
the anemones cling to the rocks, and the pinks 
bourgeon in the ribbed yellow sand. She sang of 
the big whales that come down from the north seas 
and have sharp icicles hanging to their fins; of the 

95 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Sirens who tell of such wonderful things that the 
merchants have to stop their ears with wax lest they 
should hear them, and leap into the water and be 
drowned; of the sunken galleys with their tall masts, 
and the frozen sailors clinging to the rigging, and 
the mackerel swimming in and out of the open port- 
holes; of the little barnacles who are great travelers, 
and cling to the keels of the ships and go round and 
round the world; and of the cuttle-fish who live in 
the sides of the cliffs and stretch out their long black 
arms, and can make night come when they will it. 
She sang of the nautilus who has a boat of her own 
that is carved out of an opal and steered with a silken 
sail; of the happy Mermen who play upon harps and 
can charm the great Kraken to sleep; of the little 
children who catch hold of the slippery porpoises 
and ride laughing upon their backs ; of the Mermaids 
who lie in the white foam and hold out their arms 
to the mariners ; and of the sea-lions with their curved 
tusks and the sea-horses with their floating manes. 

And as she sang, all the tunny-fish came in from 
the deep to listen to her, and the young Fisherman 
threw his nets round them and caught them, and 
others he took with a spear. And when his boat was 
well laden, the Mermaid would sink down into the 
sea, smiling at him. 

Yet would she never come near him that he might 
touch her. Oftentimes he called to her, and prayed 

9 6 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

of her, but she would not; and when he sought to 
seize her she dived into the water as a seal might 
dive, nor did he see her again that day. And each 
day the sound of her voice became sweeter to his ears. 

So sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets and 
his cunning, and had no care of his craft. Vermilion- 
finned and with eyes of bossy gold, the tunnies went 
by in shoals, but he heeded them not. His spear lay 
by his side unused, and his baskets of plaited osier 
were empty. With lips parted, and eyes dim with 
wonder, he sat idly in his boat and listened, listening 
till the sea-mists crept round him, and the wandering 
moon stained his brown limbs with silver. 

And one evening he called to her, and said: "Lit- 
tle Mermaid, little Mermaid, I love thee. Take me 
for thy bridegroom, for I love thee." 

But the Mermaid shook her head. "Thou hast a 
human soul," she answered. "If only thou would'st 
send away thy soul, then could I love thee." 

And the young Fisherman said to himself, "Of 
what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may 
not touch it. I do not know it. Surely I will send 
it away from me, and much gladness shall be mine." 
And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and standing 
up in the painted boat, he held out his arms to the 
Mermaid. "I will send my soul away," he cried, 
"and you shall be my bride, and I will be thy bride- 
groom, and in the depth of the sea we will dwell 

97 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

together, and all that thou hast sung of thou shalt 
show me, and all that thou desirest I will do, nor 
shall our lives be divided." 

And the little Mermaid laughed for pleasure, and 
hid her face in her hands. 

"But how shall I send my soul from me?" cried 
the young Fisherman. "Tell me how I may do it, 
and lo! it shall be done." 

"Alas! I know not," said the little Mermaid: "the 
Sea-folk have no souls." And she sank down into the 
deep, looking wistfully at him. 

Now early on the next morning, before the sun 
was the span of a man's hand above the hill, the 
young Fisherman went to the house of the Priest and 
knocked three times at the door. 

The novice looked out through the wicket, and 
when he saw who it was, he drew back the latch and 
said to him, "Enter." 

And the young Fisherman passed in, and knelt 
down on the sweet-smelling rushes of the floor, and 
cried to the Priest who was reading out of the Holy 
Book and said to him, "Father, I am in love with 
one of the Sea-folk, and my soul hindereth me from 
having my desire. Tell me how I can send my soul 
away from me, for in truth I have no need of it. Of 
what value is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may 
not touch it. I do not know it." 

And the Priest beat his breast, and answered, 

9 8 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 



"Alack, Alack, thou art mad, or hast eaten some poi- 
sonous herb, for the soul is the noblest part of man, 
and was given to us by God that we should nobly use 
it. There is no thing more precious than a human 
soul, nor any earthly thing that can be weighted with 
it. It is worth all the gold that is in the world, and 
is more precious than the rubies of the kings. There- 
fore, my son, think not any more of this matter, for 
it is a sin that may not be forgiven. And as for the 
Sea-folk, they are lost, and they who would traffic 
with them are lost also. They are as the beasts of 
the field that know not good from evil, and for them 
the Lord has not died." 

The young Fisherman's eyes filled with tears when 
he heard the bitter words of the Priest, and he rose 
up from his knees and said to him, "Father, the 
Fauns live in the forest and are glad, and on the rocks 
sit the Mermen with their harps of red gold. Let me 
be as they are, I beseech thee, for their days are as 
the days of flowers, and as for my soul, what doth my 
soul profit me, if it stand between me and the thing 
that I love?" 

"The love of the body is vile," cried the Priest, 
knitting his brows, "and vile and evil are the pagan 
things God suffers to wander through His world. 
Accursed be the Fauns of the woodland, and ac- 
cursed be the singers of the sea! I have heard them 
at night-time, and they have sought to lure me from 

99 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

my beads. They tap at the window, and laugh. 
They whisper into my ears the tale of their perilous 
joys. They tempt me with temptations, and when I 
would pray they make mouths at me. They are lost, 
I tell thee, they are lost. For them there is no heaven 
nor hell, and in neither shall they praise God's 
name." 

"Father,' cried the young Fisherman, "thou know- 
est not what thou sayest. Once in my net I snared the 
daughter of a King. She is fairer than the morning 
star, and whiter than the moon. For her body I 
would give my soul, and for her love I would sur- 
render heaven. Tell me what I ask of thee, and let 
me go in peace." 

"Away! away!" cried the Priest: "thy leman is 
lost, and thou shalt be lost with her." And he gave 
him no blessing, but drove him from his door. 

And the young Fisherman went down into the 
market-place, and he walked slowly, and with bowed 
head, as one who is in sorrow. 

And when the merchants saw him coming, they 
began to whisper to each other, and one of them 
came forth to meet him, and called him by name, 
and said to him, "What hast thou to sell?" 

"I will sell thee my soul," he answered: "I pray 
thee buy it off me, for I am weary of it. Of what 
use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may not 
touch it. I do not know it." 

ioo 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

But the merchants mocked at him, and said, "Of 
what use is a man's soul to us? It is not worth a 
clipped piece of silver. Sell us thy body for a slave, 
and we will clothe thee in sea-purple, and put a ring 
upon thy finger, and make thee the minion of the 
great Queen. But talk not of the soul, for to us it 
is nought, nor has it any value for our service." 

And the young Fisherman said to himself: "How 
strange a thing this is! The Priest telleth me that 
the soul is worth all the gold in the world, and the 
merchants say that it is not worth a clipped piece of 
silver." And he passed out of the market-place, and 
went down to the shore of the sea, and began to pon- 
der on what he should do. 

And at noon he remembered how one of his com- 
panions, who was a gatherer of samphire, had told 
him of a certain young Witch who dwelt in a cave 
at the head of the bay and was very cunning in her 
witcheries. And he set to and ran, so eager was he 
to get rid of his soul, and a cloud of dust followed 
him as he sped round the sand of the shore. By the 
itching of her palm the young Witch knew his com- 
ing, and she laughed and let down her red hair. With 
her red hair falling around her, she stood at the 
opening of the cave, and in her hand she had a spray 
of wild hemlock that was blossoming. 

"What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack?" she cried, as 

IOI 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

he came panting up the steep, and bent down before 
her. "Fish for thy net, when the wind is foul? I 
have a little reed-pipe, and when I blow on it the 
mullet come sailing into the bay. But it has a price, 
pretty boy, it has a price. What d'ye lack? What 
d'ye lack? A storm to wreck the ships, and wash 
the chests of rich treasure ashore? I have more 
storms than the wind has, for I serve one who is 
stronger than the wind, and with a sieve and a pail 
of water I can send the great galleys to the bottom 
of the sea. But I have a price, pretty boy, I have 
a price. What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? I know 
a flower that grows in the valley, none knows it but 
I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and 
its juice is as white as milk. Should'st thou touch 
with this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she 
would follow thee all over the world. Out of the 
bed of the King she would rise, and over the whole 
world she would follow thee. And it has a price, 
pretty boy, it has a price. What d'ye lack? What 
d'ye lack? I can pound a toad in a mortar, and make 
broth of it and stir the broth with a dead man's hand. 
Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps, and he 
will turn into a black viper, and his own mother will 
slay him. With a wheel I can draw the Moon from 
heaven, and in a crystal I can show thee Death. What 
d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? Tell me thy desire, and 

102 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a price, 
pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price." 

"My desire is but for a little thing," said the young 
Fisherman, "yet hath the priest been wroth with me, 
and driven me forth. It is but for a little thing, and 
the merchants have mocked at me, and denied me. 
Therefore am I come to thee, though men call thee 
evil, and whatever be thy price I shall pay it." 

"What would'st thou?" asked the Witch, coming 
near to him. 

"I would send my soul away from me," answered 
the young Fisherman. 

The Witch grew pale and shuddered, and hid her 
face in her blue mantle. "Pretty boy, pretty boy," 
she muttered, "that is a terrible thing to do." 

He tossed his brown curls and laughed. "My soul 
is nought to me," he answered. "I cannot see it. I 
may not touch it. I do not know it." 

"What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?" asked the 
Witch, looking down at him with her beautiful eyes. 

"Five pieces of gold," he said, "and my nets, and 
the wattled house where I live, and the painted boat 
in which I sail. Only tell me how to get rid of my 
soul, and I will give thee all that I possess." 

She laughed mockingly at him, and struck him 
with the spray of hemlock. "I can turn the autumn 
leaves into gold," she answered, "and I can weave 
the pale moonbeams into silver if I will it. He 

103 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

whom I serve is richer than all the kings of this 
world and has their dominions." 

"What then shall I give thee," he cried, "if thy 
price be neither gold nor silver?" 

The Witch stroked his hair with her thin white 
hand. "Thou must dance with me, pretty boy," she 
murmured, and she smiled at him as she spoke. 

"Nought but that?" cried the young Fisherman in 
wonder, and he rose to his feet. 

"Nought but that," she answered, and she smiled 
at him again. 

"Then at sunset in some secret place we shall dance 
together," he said, "and after that we have danced 
thou shalt tell me the thing which I desire to know." 

She shook her head. "When the moon is full, 
when the moon is full," she muttered. Then she 
peered all round, and listened. A blue bird rose 
screaming from its nest and circled over the dunes, 
and three spotted birds rustled through the coarse 
gray grass, and whistled to each other. There was 
no other sound save the sound of a wave fretting the 
smooth pebbles below. So she reached out her hand, 
and drew him near to her and put her dry lips close 
to his ear. 

"To-night thou must come to the top of the moun- 
tain," she whispered, "It is a Sabbath, and He will 
be there." 

The young Fisherman started and looked at her, 

104 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and she showed her white teeth and laughed. "Who 
is He of whom thou speakest?" he asked. 

"It matters not," she answered. "Go thou to-night, 
and stand under the branches of the hornbeam, and 
wait for my coming. If a black dog run towards 
thee, strike it with a rod of willow, and it will go 
away. If an owl speak to thee, make it no answer. 
When the moon is full I shall be with thee, and we 
will dance together on the grass." 

"But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I may 
send my soul from me?" he made question. 

She moved out into the sunlight, and through her 
red hair rippled the wind. "By the hoofs of the goat 
I swear it," she made answer. 

"Thou art the best of the witches," cried the young 
Fisherman, "and I will surely dance with thee to- 
night on the top of the mountain. I would indeed 
that thou hadst asked of me either gold or silver. But 
such as thy price is thou shalt have it, for it is but a 
little thing." And he doffed his cap to her, and bent 
his head low, and ran back to the town filled with a 
great joy. 

And the Witch watched him as he went, and when 
he had passed from her sight she entered her cave, 
and having taken a mirror from a box of carved 
cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, and burned 
vervain on lighted charcoal before it, and peered 
through the coils of the smoke. And after a time 

105 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

she clenched her hands in anger. "He should have 
been mine," she muttered, "I am as fair as she is." 

And that evening, when the moon had risen, the 
young Fisherman climbed up to the top of the moun- 
tain, and stood under the branches of the hornbeam. 
Like a targe of polished metal the round sea lay at 
his feet, and the shadows of the fishing boats moved 
in the little bay. A great owl, with yellow sulphur- 
ous eyes, called to him by his name, but he made it 
no answer. A black dog ran towards him and 
snarled. He struck it with a rod of willow, and it 
went away whining. 

At midnight the witches came flying through the 
air like bats. "Phew!" they cried, as they lit upon 
the ground, "there is some one here we know not!" 
and they sniffed about, and chattered to each other, 
and made signs. Last of all came the young Witch, 
with her red hair streaming in the wind. She wore 
a dress of gold tissue embroidered with peacock's 
eyes, and a little cap of green velvet was on her head. 

"Where is he, where is he?" shrieked the witches 
when they saw her, but she only laughed, and ran to 
the hornbeam, and taking the Fisherman by the hand 
she led him out into the moonlight and began to 
dance. 

Round and round they whirled, and the young 
Witch jumped so high that he could see the scarlet 

1 06 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

heels of her shoes. Then right across the dancers 
came the sound of the galloping of a horse, but no 
horse was to be seen, and he felt afraid. 

"Faster," cried the Witch, and she threw her arms 
about his neck, and her breath was hot upon his face. 
"Faster, faster!" she cried, and the earth seemed to 
spin beneath his feet, and his brain grew troubled, 
and a great terror fell on him, as of some evil thing 
that was watching him, and at last he became aware 
that under the shadow of a rock there was a figure 
that had not been there before. 

It was a man dressed in a suit of black velvet, cut 
in the Spanish fashion. His face was strangely paJe, 
but his lips were like a proud red flower. He seemed 
weary, and was leaning back toying in a listless man- 
ner with the pommel of his dagger. On the grass 
beside him lay a plumed hat, and a pair of riding 
gloves gauntleted with gilt lace, and sewn with seed- 
pearls wrought into a curious device. A short cloak 
lined with sables hung from his shoulder, and his 
delicate white hands were gemmed with rings. 
Heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes. 

The young Fisherman watched him, as one snared 
in a spell. At last their eyes met, and wherever he 
danced it seemed to him that the eyes of the man 
were upon him. He heard the Witch laugh, and 
caught her by the waist, and whirled her madly 
round and round. 

107 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Suddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and the dancers 
stopped, and going up two by two, knelt down, and 
kissed the man's hands. As they did so, a little smile 
touched his proud lips, as a bird's wing touches the 
water and makes it laugh. But there was disdain in 
it. He kept looking at the young Fisherman. 

"Come! let us worship," whispered the Witch, and 
she led him up, and a great desire to do as she be- 
sought him seized on him, and he followed her. But 
when he came close, and without knowing why he 
did it, he made on his breast the sign of the Cross, 
and called upon the holy name. 

No sooner had he done so than the witches 
screamed like hawks and flew away, and the pallid 
face that had been watching him twitched with a 
spasm of pain. The man went over to a little wood, 
and whistled. A jennet with silver trappings came 
running to meet him. As he leapt upon the saddle 
he turned round, and looked at the young Fisherman 
sadly. 

And the Witch with the red hair tried to fly away 
also, but the Fisherman caught her by her wrists, 
and held her fast. 

"Loose me," she cried, "and let me go. For thou 
hast named what should not be named, and shown 
the sign that may not be looked at." 

"Nay," he answered, "but I will not let thee go 
till thou hast told me the secret." 

1 08 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"What secret?" said the Witch, wrestling with 
him like a wild cat, and biting her foam-flecked lips. 

"Thou knowest," he made answer. 

Her grass-green eyes grew dim with tears, and she 
said to the Fisherman, "Ask me anything but that." 

He laughed, and held her all the more tightly. 

And when she saw that she could not free herself, 
she whispered to him, "Surely I am as fair as the 
daughters of the sea, and as comely as those that 
dwell in the blue waters," and she fawned on him 
and put her face close to his. 

But he thrust her back frowning, and said to her, 
"If thou keepest not the promise that thou madest 
to me I will slay thee for a false witch." 

She grew gray as a blossom of the Judas tree, and 
shuddered. "Be it so,' she muttered. "It is thy soul 
and not mine. Do with it as thou wilt." And she 
took from her girdle a little knife that had a handle 
of green viper's skin, and gave it to him. 

"What shall this serve me?" he asked of her won- 
dering. 

She was silent for a few moments, and a look of 
terror came over her face. Then she brushed her 
hair back from her forehead, and smiling strangely 
she said to him, "What men call the shadow of the 
body is not the shadow of the body, but is the body 
of the soul. Stand on the seashore with thy back to 
the moon, and cut away from around thy feet thy 

109 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

shadow, which is thy soul's body, and bid thy soul 
leave thee, and it will do so." 

The young Fisherman trembled. "Is this true?" 
he murmured. 

"It is true, and I would that I had not told thee 
of it," she cried, and she clung to his knees weeping. 

He put her from him and left her in the rank grass, 
and going to the edge of the mountain he placed the 
knife in his belt, and began to climb down. 

And his Soul that was within him called out to 
him and said, "Lo! I have dwelt with thee for all 
these years, and have been thy servant. Send me not 
away from thee now, for what evil have I done 
thee?" 

And the young Fisherman laughed. "Thou hast 
done me no evil, but I have no need of thee," he an- 
swered. "The world is wide, and there is Heaven 
also, and Hell, and that dim twilight house that lies 
between. Go wherever thou wilt, but trouble me not r 
for my love is calling to me." 

And his Soul besought him piteously, but he 
heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag, being sure- 
footed as a wild goat, and at last he reached the level 
ground and the yellow shore of the sea. 

Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought 
by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with his back to 
the moon, and out of the foam came white arms that 
beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms 

no 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

that did him homage. Before him lay his shadow, 
which was the body of the soul, and behind him hung 
the moon in the honey-colored air. 

And his Soul said to him, "If indeed thou must 
drive me from thee, send me not forth without a 
heart. The world is cruel, give me thy heart to take 
with me." 

He tossed his head and smiled. "With what should 
I love my love if I gave thee my heart?" he cried. 

"Nay, but be merciful, said his Soul: "give me 
thy heart, for the world is very cruel, and I am 
afraid." 

"My heart is my love's," he answered, "therefore 
tarry not, but get thee gone." 

"Should I not love also?" asked his Soul. 

"Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee," cried 
the young Fisherman, and he took the little knife 
with its handle of green viper's spin, and cut away 
his shadow from around his feet, and it rose up and 
stood before him, and looked at him, and it was even 
as himself. 

He crept back and thrust the knife into his belt, 
and a feeling of awe came over him. "Get thee 
gone," he murmured, "and let me see thy face no 
more." 

"Nay, but we must meet again," said the Soul. Its 
voice was low and flute-like, and its lips hardly 
moved while it spake. 

in 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"How shall we meet?" cried the young Fisherman. 
"Thou wilt not follow me into the depths of the sea?" 

"Once every year I will come to this place, and 
call to thee," said the Soul. "It may be that thou 
wilt have need of me." 

"What need should I have of thee?" cried the 
young Fisherman, "but be it as thou wilt," and he 
plunged into the water, and the Tritons blew their 
horns, and the little Mermaid rose up to meet him, 
and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on 
the mouth. 

And the Soul stood on the lonely beach and 
watched them. And when they had sunk down into 
the sea, it went weeping away over the marshes. 

And after a year was over the Soul came down to 
the shore of the sea and called to the young Fisher- 
man, and he rose out of the deep and said, "Why 
dost thou call to me?" 

And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that I may 
speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 

So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow 
water, and leaned his head upon his hand and lis- 
tened. 

And the Soul said to him, "When I left thee I 
turned my face to the East and journeyed. From the 
East cometh everything that is wise. Six days I jour- 

112 




THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

' Get thee gone for I have no need of thee, ' ' cried the young fisherman. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

neyed, and on the morning of the seventh day I came 
to a hill that is in the country of the Tartars. I sat 
down under the shade of a tamarisk tree to shelter 
myself from the sun. The land was dry, and burnt 
up with the heat. The people went to and fro over 
the plain like flies crawling upon a disk of polished 
copper. 

"When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up 
from the flat rim of the land. When the Tartars saw 
it, they strung their painted bows, and having leapt 
upon their little horses they galloped to meet it. The 
women fled to the wagons, and hid themselves be- 
hind the felt curtains. 

"At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of them 
were missing, and of those that came back not a few 
had been wounded. They harnessed their horses 
to the wagons and drove hastily away. Three jack- 
als came out of a cave and peered after them. Then 
they sniffed up the air with their nostrils, and trotted 
off in the opposite direction. 

"When the moon rose I saw a campflre burning 
on the plain, and went towards it. A company of 
merchants were seated round it on carpets. Their 
camels were picketed behind them, and the negroes 
who were their servants were pitching tents of tanned 
skin upon the sand, and making a high wall of the 
prickly pear. 

"As I came near them, the chief of the merchants 

"3 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 



rose up and drew his sword, and asked me my busi- 
ness. 

"I answered that I was a prince in my own land, 
and that I had escaped from the Tartars, who had 
sought to make me their slave. The chief smiled, 
and showed me five heads fixed upon long reeds of 
bamboo. 

"Then he asked me who was the prophet of God, 
and I answered him Mohammed. 

"When he heard the name of the false prophet, 
he bowed and took me by the hand, and placed me 
by his side. A negro brought me some mare's milk 
in a wooden dish, and a piece of lamb's flesh roasted. 

"At daybreak we started on our journey. I rode 
on a red-haired camel by the side of the chief, and a 
runner ran before us carrying a spear. The men of 
war were on either hand, and the mules followed 
with the merchandise. There were forty camels in 
the caravan, and the mules were twice forty in num- 
ber. 

"We went from the country of the Tartars into the 
country of those who curse the Moon. We saw the 
Gryphons guarding their gold on the white rocks, 
and the scaled Dragons sleeping in their caves. As 
we passed over the mountains we held our breath lest 
the snows might fall on us, and each man tied a veil 
of gauze before his eyes. As we passed through the 
valleys the Pygmies shot arrows at us from the hol- 

114 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

lows of the trees, and at night time we heard the wild 
men beating on their drums. When we came to the 
Tower of Apes we set fruits before them, and they 
did not harm us. When we came to the Tower of 
Serpents we gave them warm milk in bowls of brass, 
and they let us go by. Three times in our journey 
we came to the banks of the Oxus. We crossed it on 
rafts of wood with great bladders of blown hide. 
The river-horses raged against us and sought to slay 
us. When the camels saw them they trembled. 

"The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but 
would not suffer us to enter their gates. They threw 
bread over the walls, little maize-cakes baked in 
honey and cakes of fine flour filled with dates. For 
every hundred baskets we gave them a bead of amber. 

"When the dwellers in the villages saw us coming, 
they poisoned the wells and fled to the hill-summits. 
We fought with the Magadae who are born old, and 
grow younger and younger every year, and die when 
they are little children; and with the Laktroi who 
say that they are the sons of tigers, and paint them- 
selves yellow and black; and with the Aurantes who 
bury their dead on the tops of trees, and themselves 
live in dark caverns lest the Sun, who is their god, 
should slay them; and with the Krimnians who wor- 
ship a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, 
and feed it with butter and fresh fowls; and with 
the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced; and with the 

ii5 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Sidans, who have horses' feet, and run more swiftly 
than horses. A third of our company died in battle, 
and a third died of want. The rest murmured 
against me, and said that I had brought them an evil 
fortune. I took a horned adder from beneath a stone, 
and let it sting me. When they saw that I did not 
sicken they grew afraid. 

"In the fourth month we reached the city of Illel. 
It was night time when we came to the grove that is 
outside the walls, and the air was sultry, for the 
Moon was traveling in Scorpion. We took the ripe 
pomegranates from the trees, and brake them and 
drank their sweet juices. Then we lay down on our 
carpets and waited for the dawn. 

"And at dawn we rose and knocked at the gate of 
the city. It was wrought out of red bronze, and 
carved with sea-dragons and dragons that have 
wings. The guards looked down from the battle- 
ments, and asked us our business. The interpreter 
of the caravan answered that we had come from the 
island of Syria with much merchandise. They took 
hostages, and told us that they would open the gate 
to us at noon, and bade us tarry till then. 

"When it was noon they opened the gate, and as 
we entered in the people came crowding out of the 
houses to look at us, and a crier went round the city 
crying through a shell. We stood in the market- 
place, and the negroes uncorded the bales of figured 

116 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

cloths and opened the carved chests of sycamore. 
And when they had ended their task, the merchants 
set forth their strange wares, the waxed linen from 
Egypt and the painted linen from the country of the 
Ethiops, the purple sponges from Tyre and the 
blue hangings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber 
and the fine vessels of glass and the curious vessels of 
burnt clay. From the roof of a house a company of 
women watched us. One of them wore a mask of 
gilded leather. 

"And on the first day the priests came and bartered 
with us, and on the second day came the nobles, and 
on the third day came the craftsmen and the slaves. 
And this is their custom with all merchants as long 
as they tarry in the city. 

"And we tarried for a moon, and when the moon 
was waning, I wearied and wandered away through 
the streets of the city and came to the garden of its 
god. The priests in their yellow robes moved silently 
through the green trees, and on a pavement of black 
marble stood the rose-red house in which the god has 
his dwelling. Its doors were of powered lacquer, 
and bulls and peacocks were wrought on them in 
raised and polished gold. The tiled roof was of sea- 
green porcelain, and the jutting eaves were festooned 
with little bells. When the white doves flew past, 
they struck the bells with their wings and made them 
tinkle. 

117 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"In front of the temple was a pool of clear water 
paved with veined onyx. I lay down beside it, and 
with my pale fingers I touched the broad leaves. 
One of the priests came towards me and stood behind 
me. He had sandals on his feet, one of soft serpent- 
skin and the other of birds' plumage. On his head 
was a miter of black felt decorated with silver cres- 
cents. Seven yellows were woven into his robe, and 
his frizzed hair was stained with antimony. 

"After a little while he spake to me, and asked me 
my desire. 

"I told him that my desire was to see the god. 

" 'The god is hunting,' said the priest, looking 
strangely at me with his small slanting eyes. 

" 'Tell me in what forest, and I will ride with him,' 
I answered. 

"He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with 
his long pointed nails. 

" 'The god is asleep,' he murmured. 

" 'Tell me on what couch, and I will watch by 
him,' I answered. 

" 'The god is at the feast,' he cried. 

" 'If the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, 
and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also,' was 
my answer. 

"He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by 
the hand, he raised me up, and led me into the tem- 
ple. 

118 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on 
a throne of jasper bordered with great orient pearls. 
It was carved out of the ebony, and in stature was of 
the stature of a man. On its forehead was a ruby, 
and thick oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs. 
Its feet were red with the blood of a newly-slain kid, 
and its loins girt with a copper belt that was studded 
with seven beryls. 

"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' And 
he answered me, 'This is the god.' 

" 'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely slay 
thee.' And I touched his hand, and it became with- 
ered. 

"And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my lord 
heal his servant, and I will show him the god.' 

"So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, and 
it became whole again, and he trembled and led me 
into the second chamber, and I saw an idol standing 
on a lotus of jade hung with great emeralds. It was 
carved out of ivory, and in stature was twice the 
stature of a man. On its forehead was a chrysolite 
and its breasts were smeared with myrrh and cinna- 
mon. In one hand it held a crooked scepter of jade, 
and in the other a round crystal. It ware buskins of 
brass, and its thick neck was circled with a circle of 
selenites. 

"And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' And 
he answered me, 'This is the god.' 

119 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

" 'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely slay 
thee,' and I touched his eyes, and they became blind. 

"And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my lord 
heal his servant, and I will show him the god.' 

"So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, and 
the sight came back to them, and he trembled again, 
and led me into the third chamber, and lo! there was 
no idol in it, nor image of any kind, but only a mirror 
of round metal set on an altar of stone. 

"And I said to the priest, 'Where is the god?' 

"And he answered me: 'There is no god but this 
mirror that thou seest, for this is the Mirror of Wis- 
dom. And it reflecteth all things that are in heaven 
and on earth, save only the face of him who looketh 
into it. This it reflecteth not, so that he who looketh 
into it may be wise. Many other mirrors are there, 
but they are Mirrors of Opinion. This only is the 
Mirror of Wisdom. And they who possess this mir- 
ror know everything, nor is there anything hidden 
from them. And they who possess it not have not 
Wisdom. Therefore is it the god, and we worship 
it' And I looked into the mirror, and it was even 
as he had said to me. 

"And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters 
not, for in a valley that is but a day's journey from 
this place have I hidden the Mirror of Wisdom. Do 
but suffer me to enter into thee again and be thy serv- 
ant, and thou shalt be wiser than all the wise men, 

1 20 




THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 

' Faster, faster !" she cried and the earth teemed to spin beneath his feet. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and Wisdom shall be thine. Suffer me to enter into 
thee, and none will be as wise as thou." 

But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love is bet- 
ter than Wisdom," he cried, "and the little Mermaid 
loves me." 

"Nay, but there is nothing better than Wisdom," 
said the Soul. 

"Love is better," answered the young Fisherman, 
and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul went 
weeping away over the marshes. 

And after the second year was over the Soul came 
down to the shore of the sea, and called to the young 
Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and said, 
"Why dost thou call me?" 

And the Soul answered, "Come nearer that I may 
speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 
So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow wa- 
ter, and leaned his head upon his hand and listened. 

And the Soul said to him, "When I left thee, I 
turned my face to the South and journeyed. From 
the South cometh everything that is precious. Six 
days I journeyed along the highways that lead to the 
city of Ashter, along the dusty red-dyed highways 
by which the pilgrims are wont to go did I journey, 
and on the morning of the seventh day I lifted up my 
eyes, and lo! the city lay at my feet, for it is in a 
valley. 

121 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"There are nine gates to this city, and in front of 
each gate stands a bronze horse that neighs when the 
Bedouins come down from the mountains. The 
walls are cased with copper, and the watch-towers 
on the walls are roofed with brass. In every tower 
stands an archer with a bow in hand. At sunrise he 
strikes with an arrow on a gong, and at sunset he 
blows through a horn of horn. 

"When I sought to enter, the guards stopped me 
and asked of me who I was. I made answer that I 
was a Dervish and on my way to the city of Mecca, 
where there was a green veil on which the Koran was 
embroidered in silver letters by the hands of the 
angels. They were filled with wonder, and en- 
treated me to pass in. 

"Inside it is even as a bazaar. Surely thou 
should'st have been with me. Across the narrow 
streets the gay lanterns of paper flutter like large 
butterflies. When the wind blows over the roof they 
rise and fall as painted bubbles do. In front of their 
booths sit the merchants on silken carpets. They 
have straight black beards, and their turbans are 
covered with golden sequins, long strings of amber 
and carved peach-stones glide through their cool 
fingers. Some of them sell galabanum and nard, and 
curious perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea, 
and the thick oil of red roses, and myrrh and little 
nail-shaped cloves. When one stops to speak to 

122 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

them, they throw pinches of frankincense upon a 
charcoal brazier and make the air sweet. I saw a 
Syrian who held in his hands a thin rod like a reed. 
Gray threads of smoke came from it, and its odor as 
it burned was as the odor of the pink almond in 
spring. Others sell silver bracelets embossed all 
over with creamy blue turquoise stones, and anklets 
of brass wire fringed with little pearls, and tigers' 
claws set in gold, and the claws of that gilt cat, the 
leopard, set in gold also, and ear-rings of pierced 
emerald, and finger-rings of hollowed jade. From 
the tea-houses comes the sound of the guitar, and the 
opium-smokers with their white smiling faces look 
out at the passers-by. 

"Of a truth thou should'st have been with me. The 
wine-sellers elbow their way through the crowd with 
great black skins on their shoulders. Most of them 
sell the wine of Schiraz, which is as sweet as honey. 
They serve it in little metal cups and strew rose leaves 
upon it. In the market-place stand the fruitsellers, 
who sell all kinds of fruit: ripe figs, with their 
bruised purple flesh, melons, smelling of musk and 
yellow as topazes, citrons and rose-apples and clusters 
of white grapes, round red-gold oranges, and oval 
lemons of green gold. Once I saw an elephant go 
by. Its trunk was painted with vermilion and tur- 
meric, and over its ears it had a net of crimson silk 
cord. It stopped opposite one of the booths and be- 

123 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

gan eating the oranges, and the man only laughed. 
Thou canst not think how strange a people they are. 
When they are glad they go to the bird-sellers and 
buy them a caged bird, and set it free that their joy 
may be greater, and when they are sad they scourge 
themselves with thorns that their sorrow may no' 
grow less. 

"One evening I met some negroes carrying a heavy 
palanquin through the bazaar. It was made of 
gilded bamboo, and the poles were of vermilion 
lacquer studded with brass peacocks. Across the 
windows hung thin curtains of muslin embroidered 
with beetles' wings and with tiny seed-pearls, and as 
it passed by a pale-faced Circassian looked out and 
smiled at me. I followed behind, and the negroes 
hurried their steps and scowled. But I did not care. 
I felt a great curiosity come over me. 

"At last they stopped at a square white house. 
There were no windows to it, only a little door like 
the door of a tomb. They set down the palanquin 
and knocked three times with a copper hammer. An 
Armenian in a caftan of green leather peered through 
the wicket, and when he saw them he opened, and 
spread a carpet on the ground, and the woman 
stepped out. As she went in, she turned round and 
smiled at me again. I had never seen any one so 
pale. 

"When the moon rose I returned to the same place 

124 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and sought for the house, but it was no longer there. 
When I saw that, I knew who the woman was, and 
wherefore she had smiled at me. 

"Certainly thou should'st have been with me. On 
the feast of the New Moon the young Emperor came 
forth from his palace and went into the mosque to 
pray. His hair and beard were dyed with rose- 
leaves, and his cheeks were powdered with a fine 
gold dust. The palms of his feet and hands were 
yellow with saffron. 

"At sunrise he went forth from his palace in a 
robe of silver, and at sunset he returned to it again 
in a robe of gold. The people flung themselves on 
the ground and hid their faces, but I would not do 
so. I stood by the stall of a seller of dates and 
waited. When the Emperor saw me, he raised his 
painted eyebrows and stopped. I stood quite still, 
and made him no obeisance. The people marveled 
at my boldness, and counseled me to flee from the city. 
I paid no heed to them, but went and sat with the 
sellers of strange gods, who by reason of their craft 
are abominated. When I told them what I had done, 
each of them gave me a god and prayed me to leave 
them. 

"That night, as I lay on a cushion in the tea-house 
that is in the Street of Pomegranates, the guards of 
the Emperor entered and led me to the palace. As 
I went in they closed each door behind me, and put 

125 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

a chain across it. Inside was a great court with an 
arcade running all round. The walls were of white 
alabaster, set here and there with blue and green tiles. 
The pillars were of green marble, and the pavement 
of a kind of peach-blossom marble. I had never 
seen anything like it before. 

"As I passed across the court two veiled women 
looked down from the balcony and cursed me. The 
guards hastened on, and the butts of the lances rang 
upon the polished floor. They opened a gate of 
wrought ivory, and I found myself in a watered gar- 
den of seven terraces. It was planted with tulip-cups 
and moonflowers, and silver-studded aloes. Like a 
slim reed of crystal a fountain hung in the dusky air. 
The cypress-trees were like burnt-out torches. From 
one of them a nightingale was singing. 

"At the end of the garden stood a little pavilion. 
As we approached it two eunuchs came out to meet 
us. Their fat bodies swayed as they walked, and 
they glanced curiously at me with their yellow- 
lidded eyes. One of them drew aside the captain of 
the guard, and in a low voice whispered to him. The 
other kept munching scented pastilles, which he took 
with an affected gesture out of an oval box of lilac 
enamel. 

"After a few moments the captain of the guard dis- 
missed the soldiers. They went back to the palace, 
the eunuchs following slowly behind and plucking 

126 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the sweet mulberries from the trees as they passed. 
Once the elder of the two turned round and smiled 
at me with an evil smile. 

"Then the captain of the guard motioned me to- 
wards the entrance of the pavilion. I walked on 
without trembling, and drawing the heavy curtain 
aside I entered in. 

"The young Emperor was stretched on a couch of 
dyed lion skins, and a ger-falcon perched upon his 
wrist. Behind him stood a brass-turbaned Nubian, 
naked down to the waist, and with heavy earrings in 
his split ears. On a table by the side of the couch 
lay a mighty scimitar of steel. 

"When the Emperor saw me he frowned, and said 
to me, 'What is thy name? Knowest thou not that 
I am Emperor of this city?' But I made him no 
answer. 

"He pointed with his finger at the scimitar, and 
the Nubian seized it, and rushing forward struck at 
me with great violence. The blade whizzed through 
me, and did me no hurt. The man fell sprawling 
on the floor, and when he rose up, his teeth chattered 
with terror and he hid himself behind the couch. 

"The Emperor leapt to his feet, and taking a lance 
from a stand of arms he threw it at me. I caught it 
in its flight, and brake the shaft into two pieces. He 
shot at me with an arrow, but I held up my hands 
and it stopped in mid-air. Then he drew a dagger 

127 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

from a belt of white leather, and stabbed the Nubian 
in the throat lest the slave should tell of his dishonor. 
The man writhed like a trampled snake, and a red 
foam bubbled from his lips. 

"As soon as he was dead the Emperor turned to 
me, and when he had wiped away the bright sweat 
from his brow with a little napkin of purfled and 
purple silk, he said to me, 'Art thou a prophet, that 
I may not harm thee, or the son of a prophet that 
I can do thee no hurt? I pray thee leave my city 
to-night, for while thou art in it I am no longer its 
lord.' 

"And I answered him, 'I will go for half thy 
treasure. Give me half of thy treasure and I will go 
away.' 

"He took me by the hand, and led me out into the 
garden. When the captain of the guard saw me, he 
wondered. When the eunuchs saw me, their knees 
shook and they fell upon the ground in fear. 

"There is a chamber in the palace that has eight 
walls of red porphyry, and a brass-scaled ceiling 
hung with lamps. The Emperor touched one of the 
walls and it opened, and we passed down a corridor 
that was lit with many torches. In niches upon each 
side stood great wine-jars filled to the brim with sil- 
ver pieces. When we reached the center of the cor- 
ridor the Emperor spake the word that may not be 
spoken, and a granite door swung back on a secret 

128 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

spring, and he put his hands before his face lest his 
eyes should be dazzled. 

"Thou couldst not believe how marvelous a place 
it was. There were huge tortoise-shells of pearls, 
and hollowed moonstones of great size piled up with 
red rubies. The gold was stored in coffers of ele- 
phant-hide, and the gold-dust in leather bottles. 
There were opals and sapphires, the former in cups 
of crystal, and the latter in cups of jade. Round 
green emeralds were ranged in order upon thin plates 
of ivory, and in one corner were silk bags filled, some 
with turquoise-stones, and others with beryls. The 
ivory horns were heaped with purple amethysts, and 
the horns of brass were chalcedonies and sards. The 
pillars, which were of cedar, were hung with strings 
of yellow lynx-stones. In the flat oval shields there 
were carbuncles, both wine-colored and colored like 
grass. And yet I have told thee but a tithe of what 
was there. 

"And when the Emperor had taken away his hands 
from before his face he said to me: 'This is my house 
of treasure, and half that is in it is thine, even as I 
promised to thee. And I will give thee camels and 
camel drivers, and they shall do thy bidding and take 
away thy share of the treasure to whatever part of 
the world thou desirest to go. And the thing shall be 
done to-night, for I would not that the Sun, who is 

129 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

my father, should see that there is in my city a man 
whom I cannot slay.' 

"But I answered him, 'The gold that is here is 
thine, and the silver is thine also, and thine are the 
precious jewels and the things of price. As for me, 
I have no need of these. Nor shall I take aught from 
thee but that little ring that thou wearest on the finger 
of thy hand.' 

"And the Emperor frowned. 'It is but a ring of 
lead,' he cried, 'nor has it any value. Therefore take 
thy half of the treasure and go from my city.' 

" 'Nay,' I answered, 'but I will take nought but 
that leaden ring, for I know what is written within 
it, and for what purpose.' 

"And the Emperor trembled, and besought me and 
said, 'Take all the treasure and go from my city. 
The half that is mine shall be thine also.' 

"And I did a strange thing, but what I did mat- 
ters not, for in a cave that is but a day's journey from 
this place have I hidden the Ring of Riches. It is 
but a day's journey from this place, and it waits for 
thy coming. He who has this Ring is richer than 
all the kings of the world. Come therefore and take 
it, and the world's riches shall be thine." 

But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love is bet- 
ter than Riches," he cried, "and the little Mermaid 
loves me." 

130 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"Nay, but there is nothing better than Riches," 
said the Soul. 

"Love is better," answered the young Fisherman, 
and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul went 
weeping away over the marshes. 

And after the third year was over, the Soul came 
down to the shore of the sea, and called to the young 
Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and said, 
"Why dost thou call to me?" 

And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that I may 
speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 

So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow 
water, and leaned his head upon his hand and 
listened. 

And the Soul said to him, "In a city that I know 
of there is an inn that standeth by a river. I sat 
there with sailors who drank of two different colored 
wines, and ate bread made of barley, and little salt 
fish served in bay leaves with vinegar. And as we 
sat and made merry, there entered to us an old man 
bearing a leathern carpet and a lute that had two 
horns of amber. And when he had laid out the car- 
pet on the floor, he struck with a quill on the wire 
strings of his lute, and a girl whose face was veiled 
ran in and began to dance before us. Her face was 
veiled with a veil of gauze, but her feet were naked. 
Naked were her feet, and they moved over the car- 

131 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

pet like little white pigeons. Never have I seen any- 
thing so marvelous, and the city in which she dances 
is but a day's journey from this place." 

Now when the young Fisherman heard the words 
of his Soul, he remembered that the little Mermaid 
had no feet and could not dance. And a great de- 
sire came over him, and he said to himself, "It is but 
a day's journey, and I can return to my love," and 
he laughed, and stood up in the shallow water, and 
strode towards the shore. 

And when he had reached the dry shore he laughed 
again, and held out his arms to his Soul. And his 
Soul gave a great cry of joy and ran to meet him, and 
entered into him, and the young Fisherman saw 
stretched before him upon the sand that shadow of 
the body that is the body of the Soul. 

And his Soul said to him, "Let us not tarry, but 
get hence at once, for the Sea-gods are jealous, and 
have monsters that do their bidding." 

So they made haste, and all that night they jour- 
neyed beneath the moon, and all the next day they 
journeyed beneath the sun, and on the evening of 
the day they came to a city. 

And the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is this 
the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
speak to me?" 

132 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

And his Soul answered him. "It is not this city, 
but another. Nevertheless let us enter in." 

So they entered in and passed through the streets, 
and as they passed through the Street of the Jewelers 
the Fisherman saw a fair silver cup, set forth in a 
booth. And his Soul said to him, "Take that silver 
cup and hide it." 

So he took the cup and hid it in the fold of his 
tunic, and they went hurriedly out of the city. 

And after that they had gone a league from the 
city, the young Fisherman frowned, and flung the 
cup away, and said to the Soul, "Why did'st thou tell 
me to take this cup and hide it, for it was an evil 
thing to do?" 

But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
peace." 

And on the evening of the second day they came to 
a city, and the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is 
this the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
speak to me?" 

And his Soul answered him, "It is not this city, 
but another. Nevertheless let us enter in." 

So they entered in and passed through the street, 
and as they passed through the Street of the Sellers 
of Sandals, the young Fisherman saw a child stand- 
ing by a jar of water. And his Soul said to him, 
"Smite that child." So he smote the child till it 

133 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

wept, and when he had done this they went hur- 
riedly out of the city. 

And after that they had gone a league from the city 
the young Fisherman grew wroth, and said to his 
Soul, "Why did'st thou tell me to smite the child, for 
it was an evil thing to do?" 

But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
peace." 

And on the evening of the third day they came to 
a city and the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is 
this the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
speak to me?" 

And his Soul answered him, "It may be that it is 
this city, therefore let us enter in." 

So they entered in and passed through the streets, 
but nowhere could the young Fisherman find the 
river or the inn that stood by its side. And the people 
of the city looked curiously at him, and he grew 
afraid and said to his Soul, "Let us go hence, for she 
who dances with white feet is not here." 

But the Soul answered, "Nay, but let us tarry, for 
the night is dark and there will be robbers on the 
way." 

So he sat him down in the market-place and rested, 
and after a time there went by a hooded merchant 
who had a cloak of Tartary, and bare a lantern of 
pierced horn at the end of a jointed reed. And the 
merchant said to him, "Why dost thou sit in the 

134 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

market-place, seeing that the booths are closed and 
the bales corded?" 

And the young Fisherman answered him, "I can 
find no inn in this city, nor have I any kinsman who 
might give me shelter." 

"Are we not all kinsmen?" said the merchant. 
"And did not one God make us? Therefore come 
with me, for I have a guest-chamber." 

So the young Fisherman rose up and followed the 
merchant to his house. And when he had passed 
through a garden of pomegranates and entered into 
the house, the merchant brought him rose-water in 
a copper dish that he might wash his hands, and ripe 
melons that he might quench his thirst, and set a 
bowl of rice and a piece of roasted kid before him. 

And after that he had finished, the merchant led 
him to the guest-chamber, and bade him sleep and 
be at rest. And the young Fisherman gave him 
thanks, and kissed the ring that was on his hand, 
and flung himself down on the carpets of dyed goat's- 
hair. And when he had covered himself with a cov- 
ering of black lamb's-wool he fell asleep. 

And three hours before dawn, and while it was 
still night, his Soul waked him, and said to him, 
"Rise up and go to the room of the merchant, even 
to the room in which he sleepeth, and slay him, and 
take from him his gold, for we have need of it." 

And the young Fisherman rose up and crept to- 

135 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

wards the room of the merchant, and over the feet 
of the merchant there was lying a curved sword, and 
the tray by the side of the merchant held nine purses 
of gold. And he reached out his hand and touched 
the sword, and when he touched it the merchant 
started and awoke, and leaping up seized himself the 
sword, and cried to the young Fisherman, "Dost thou 
return evil for good, and pay with the shedding of 
blood for the kindness that I have shown thee?" 

An his Soul said to the young Fisherman, "Strike 
him," and he struck him so that he swooned, and he 
seized then the nine purses of gold, and fled hastily 
through the garden of pomegranates, and set his face 
to the star that is the star of morning. 

And when they had gone a league from the city, 
the young Fisherman beat his breast, and said to his 
Soul, "Why didst thou bid me slay the merchant and 
take his gold? Surely thou art evil." 

But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
peace." 

"Nay," cried the young Fisherman, "I may not be 
at peace, for all that thou hast made me to do I hate. 
Thee also I hate, and I bid thee tell me wherefore 
thou hast wrought with me in this wise." 

And his Soul answered him, "When thou didst 
send me forth into the world thou gavest me no heart, 
so I learned to do all these things and love them." 

136 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

"What sayest thou?" murmured the young Fisher- 
man. 

"Thou knowest," answered his Soul, "thou know- 
est it well. Hast thou forgotten that thou gavest me 
no heart? I trow not. And so trouble not thyself 
nor me, but be at peace, for there is no pain that thou 
shall not give away, nor any pleasure that thou shalt 
not receive." 

And when the young Fisherman heard these words 
he trembled and said to his Soul, "Nay, but thou art 
evil, and hast made me forget my love, and hast 
tempted me with temptations, and hast set my feet 
•n the ways of sin." 

And his Soul answered him, "Thou hast not for- 
gotten that when thou didst send me forth into the 
world thou gavest me no heart. Come, let us go to 
another city, and make merry, for we have nine 
purses of gold." 

But the young Fisherman took the nine purses of 
gold, and flung them down, and trampled on them. 

"Nay," he cried, "but I will have nought to do 
with thee, nor will I journey with thee anywhere, 
but even as I sent thee away before, so will I send 
thee away now, for thou hast wrought me no good." 
And he turned his back to the moon, and with the 
little knife that had the handle of green viper's skin 
he strove to cut from his feet that shadow of the body 
which is the body of the Soul. 

137 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Yet his Soul stirred not from him, nor paid heed to 
his command, but said to him, "The Spell that the 
Witch told thee avails thee no more, for I may not 
leave thee, nor mayest thou drive me forth. Once 
in his life may a man send his Soul away, but he who 
receiveth back his Soul must keep it with him for- 
ever, and this is his punishment and his reward." 

And the young Fisherman grew pale and clenched 
his hands and cried, "She was a false Witch in that 
she told me not that." 

"Nay," answered his Soul, "but she was true to 
Him she worships, and whose servant she will be 
ever." 

And when the young Fisherman knew that he 
could not longer get rid of his Soul, and that it was 
an evil Soul and would abide with him always, he 
fell upon the ground weeping bitterly. 

And when it was day the young Fisherman rose up 
and said to his Soul, "I will bind my hands that I 
may not do thy bidding, and close my lips that I may 
not speak thy words, and I will return to the place 
where she whom I love has her dwelling. Even to 
the sea will I return, and to the little bay where she 
is wont to sing, and I will call to her and tell her the 
evil I have done and the evil thou hast wrought on 
me." 

And his soul tempted him and said, "Who is thy 
love that thou should'st return to her? The world 

138 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

has many fairer than she is. There are the dancing- 
girls of Samaris who dance in the manner of all kinds 
of birds and beasts. Their feet are painted with 
henna, and in their hands they have little copper 
bells. They laugh while they dance, and their laugh- 
ter is as clear as the laughter of water. Come with 
me and I will show them to thee. For what is this 
trouble of thine about the things of sin? Is that 
which is pleasant to eat not made for the eater? Is 
there poison in that which is sweet to drink? Trou- 
ble not thyself, but come with me to another city. 
There is a little city hard by in which there is a 
garden of tulip-trees. And there dwell in this comely 
garden white peacocks and peacocks that have blue 
breasts. Their tails when they spread them to the 
sun are like disks of ivory and like gilt disks. And 
she who feeds them dances for their pleasure, and 
sometimes she dances on her hands and at other times 
she dances with her feet. Her eyes are colored with 
stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like the wings 
of a swallow. From a hook in one of her nostrils 
hangs a flower that is carved out of a pearl. She 
laughs while she dances, and the silver rings that are 
about her ankles tinkle like bells of silver. And so 
trouble not thyself any more, but come with me to 
this city." 

But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, 
but closed his lips with the seal of silence and with 

139 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

a tight cord bound his hands, and journeyed back to 
the place from which he had come, even to the little 
bay where his love had been wont to sing. And ever 
did his Soul tempt him by the way, but he made it 
no answer, nor would he do any of the wickedness 
that it sought to make him to do, so great was the 
power of the love that was within him. 

And when he had reached the shore of the sea, 
he loosed the cord from his hands, and took the seal 
of silence from his lips and called to the little Mer- 
maid. But she came not to his call, though he called 
to her all day long and besought her. 

And his Soul mocked him and said, "Surely thou 
hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou art as one 
who in time of dearth pours water into a broken ves- 
sel. Thou givest away what thou hast, and nought is 
given to thee in return. It were better for thee to 
come with me for I know where the Valley of Pleas- 
ure lies, and what things are wrought there." 

But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, 
but in a cleft of the rock he built himself a house of 
wattles, and abode there for the space of a year. And 
every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every 
noon he called to her again, and at night-time spake 
her name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to 
meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he find 
her, though he sought for her in the caves and in 

140 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the water green, in the pools of the tide and in the 
wells that are at the bottom of the deep. 

And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, and 
whisper of terrible things. Yet did it not prevail 
against him, so great was the power of his love. 

And after the year was over, the Soul thought 
within himself, "I have tempted my master with evil, 
and his love is stronger than I am. I will tempt him 
now with good, and it may be that he will come with 
me." 

So he spake to the young Fisherman and said, "I 
have told thee of the joy of the world, and thou hast 
turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer me now to tell thee 
of the world's pain, and it may be that thou wilt 
hearken. For of a truth, pain is the Lord of this 
world, nor is there any one who escapes from its net. 
There be some who lack raiment, and others who 
lack bread. There be widows who sit in purple, and 
widows who sit in rags. To and fro over the fens 
go the lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The 
beggars go up and down on the highways, and their 
wallets are empty. Through the streets of the cities 
walks Famine, and the Plague sits at their gates. 
Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and 
make them not to be. Wherefore shouldst thou tarry 
here calling to thy love, seeing she comes not to thy 
call? And what is love, that thou shouldst set this 
high store upon it?" 

141 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

But the young Fisherman answered it nought, so 
great was the power of his love. And every morn- 
ing he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he 
called to her again, and at night-time he spake her 
name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet 
him, nor in any place of the sea could he find her, 
though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea, and 
in the valleys that are under the waves, in the sea that 
the night makes purple, and in the sea that the dawn 
leaves gray. 

And after the second year was over, the Soul said 
to the young Fisherman at night-time, and as he sat 
in the wattled house alone, "Lo! now I have tempted 
thee with evil, and I have tempted thee with good, 
and thy love is stronger than I am. Wherefore will 
I tempt thee no longer, but I pray thee to suffer me 
to enter thy heart, that I may be one with thee even 
as before." 

"Surely thou mayest enter," said the young Fisher- 
man, "for in the days when with no heart thou didst 
go through the world thou must have much suffered." 

"Alas!" cried his Soul, "I can find no place of en- 
trance, so compassed about with love is this heart of 
thine." 

"Yet I would that I could help thee," said the 
young Fisherman. 

And as he spake there came a great cry of mourn- 
ing from the sea, even the cry that men hear when 

142 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

one of the Sea-folk is dead. And the young Fisher- 
man leapt up, and left his wattled house, and ran 
down to the shore. And the black waves came hur- 
rying to the shore, bearing with them a burden that 
was whiter than silver. White as the surf it was, 
and like a flower it tossed on the waves. And the 
surf took it from the waves, and the foam took it 
from the surf, and the shore received it, and lying 
at his feet the young Fisherman saw the body of the 
little Mermaid. Dead at his feet it was lying. 

Weeping as one smitten with pain he flung him- 
self down beside it, and he kissed the cold red of the 
mouth, and toyed with the wet amber of the hair. 
He flung himself down beside it on the sand, weep- 
ing as one trembling with joy, and in his brown arms 
he held it to his breast. Cold were the lips, yet he 
kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he 
tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eye- 
lids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was 
less salt than his tears. 

And to the dead thing he made confession. Into 
the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his 
tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with 
his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. 
Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange glad- 
ness was his pain. 

The black sea came nearer and the white foam 
moaned like a leper. With white claws of foam the 

H3 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

sea grabbled at the shore. From the palace of the 
Sea-King came the cry of mourning again, and far 
out upon the sea the great Tritons blew hoarsely upon 
their horns. 

"Flee away," said his Soul, "for ever doth the sea 
come nigher, and if thou tarriest it will slay thee. 
Flee away, for I am afraid seeing that thy heart is 
closed against me by reason of the greatness of thy 
love. Flee away to a place of safety. Surely thou 
wilt not send me without a heart into another world?" 

But the young Fisherman listened not to his Soul, 
but called on the little Mermaid and said, "Love is 
better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, 
and fairer than the feet of the daughters of men. 
The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench 
it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst not come 
to my call. The noon heard thy name, yet hadst thou 
no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my 
own hurt had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy 
love abide with me, and ever was it strong, nor did 
aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon 
evil and looked upon good. And now that thou art 
dead, surely I will die with thee also." 

And his Soul besought him to depart, but he would 
not, so great was his love. And the sea came nearer, 
and sought to cover him with its waves, and when 
he knew that the end was at hand he kissed with mad 
lips the cold lips of the Mermaid, and the heart that 

144 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

was within him brake. And as through the fullness 
of his love his heart did break, the Soul found an 
entrance and entered in, and was one with him even 
as before. And the sea covered the young Fisherman 
with its waves. 

And in the morning the Priest went forth to bless 
the sea, for it had been troubled. And with him went 
the monks and the musicians, and the candle-bearers, 
and the swingers of censers, and a great company. 

And when the Priest reached the shore he saw the 
young Fisherman lying drowned in the surf, and 
clasped in his arms was the body of the little Mer- 
maid. And he drew back frowning, and having 
made the sign of the cross, he cried aloud and said, 
"I will not bless the sea nor anything that is in it. 
Accursed be the Sea-folk, and accursed be all they 
who traffic with them. And as for him who for 
love's sake forsook God and so lieth here with his 
leman slain by God's judgment, take up his body and 
the body of his leman, and bury them in the corner 
of the Field of the Fullers, and set no mark above 
them, nor sign of any kind, that none may know the 
place of their resting. For accursed were they in 
their lives, and accursed shall they be in their deaths 
also." 

And the people did as he commanded them, and in 
the corner of the Field of the Fullers, where no sweet 

H5 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

herbs grew, they dug a deep pit, and laid the dead 
things within it. 

And when the third year was over, and on a day 
that was a holy day, the Priest went up to the chapel, 
that he might show to the people the wounds of the 
Lord, and speak to them about the wrath of God. 

And when he had robed himself with his robes, 
and entered in and bowed himself before the altar, 
he saw that the altar was covered with strange flow- 
ers that never had he seen before. Strange were they 
to look at, and of curious beauty, and their beauty 
troubled him, and their odor was sweet in his nos- 
trils. And he felt glad, and understood not why he 
was glad. 

And after that he had opened the tabernacle and 
incensed the monstrance that was in it, and shown the 
fair wafer to the people, and hid it again behind the 
veil of veils, he began to speak to them of the wrath 
of God. But the beauty of the white flowers troubled 
him, and their odor was sweet in his nostrils, and 
there came another word into his lips, and he spake 
not of the wrath of God, but of the God whose name 
is Love. And why so he spake, he knew not. 

And when he had finished his word the people 
wept, and the Priest went back to the sacristy, and his 
eyes were full of tears. And the deacons came in and 
began to unrobe him, and took from him the alb and 

146 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the girdle, the maniple and the stole. And he stood 
as one in a dream. 

And after that they had unrobed him, he looked 
at them and said, "What are the flowers that stand on 
the altar, and whence do they come?" 

And they answered him, "What flowers they are 
we cannot tell, but they come from the corner of the 
Fullers' Field." And the Priest trembled, and re- 
turned to his own house and prayed. 

And in the morning, while it was still dawn, he 
went forth with the monks and the musicians, and 
the candle-bearers and the swingers of censers, and 
a great company, and came to the shore of the sea, 
and blessed the sea, and all the wild things that are 
in it. The Fauns also he blessed, and the little things 
that dance in the woodland, and the bright-eyed 
things that peer through the leaves. All the things 
in God's world he blessed, and the people were filled 
with joy and wonder. Yet never again in the corner 
of the Fullers' Field grew flowers of any kind, but 
the field remained barren even as before. Nor came 
the Sea-folk into the bay as they had been wont to 
do, for they went to another part of the sea. 



147 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 



THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

IT was the birthday of the Infanta. She was just 
twelve years of age, and the sun was shining 
brightly in the gardens of the palace. 

Although she was a real Princess and the Infanta 
of Spain, she had only one birthday every year, just 
like the children of quite poor people, so it was natu- 
rally a matter of great importance to the whole coun- 
try that she should have a really fine day for the 
occasion. And a really fine day it certainly was. The 
tall striped tulips stood straight up upon their stalks, 
like long rows of soldiers, and looked defiantly across 
the grass at the roses, and said: "We are quite as 
splendid as you are now." The purple butterflies 
fluttered about with gold dust on their wings, visit- 
ing each flower in turn; the little lizards crept out 
of the crevices of the wall, and lay basking in the 
white glare; and the pomegranates split and cracked 
with the heat, and showed their bleeding red hearts. 
Even the pale yellow lemons, that hung in such pro- 
fusion from the moldering trellis and along the dim 
arcades, seemed to have caught a richer color from 
the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia trees 
opened their great globe-like blossoms of folded 

151 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

ivory, and rilled the air with a sweet heavy perfume. 

The little Princess herself walked up and down 
the terrace with her companions, and played at hide 
and seek round the stone vases and the old moss- 
grown statues. On ordinary days she was only 
allowed to play with children of her own rank, so she 
had always to play alone, but her birthday was an 
exception, and the King had given orders that she 
was to invite any of her young friends whom she liked 
to come and amuse themselves with her. There was 
a stately grace about these slim Spanish children as 
they glided about, the boys with their large plumed 
hats and short fluttering cloaks, the girls holding up 
the trains of their long brocaded gowns, and shield- 
ing the sun from their eyes with huge fans of black 
and silver. But the Infanta was the most graceful of 
all, and the most tastefully attired, after the some- 
what cumbrous fashion of the day. Her robe was of 
gray satin, the skirt and the wide puffed sleeves 
heavily embroidered with silver, and the stiff corset 
studded with rows of fine pearls. Two tiny slippers 
with big pink rosettes peeped out beneath her dress 
as she walked. Pink and pearl was her great gauze 
fan, and in her hair, which like an aureole of faded 
gold stood out stiffly round her pale little face, she 
had a beautiful white rose. 

From the window in a palace the sad melancholy 
King watched them. Behind him stood his brother, 

152 




THE BIRTHDA V OF THE INFANTA 

But the Infanta was the most graceful of all and the most 
gracefully attired after the somewhat cumbrous fashion of 

the day. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he hated, and his con- 
fessor, the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, sat by his 
side. Sadder even than usual was the King, for as 
he looked at the Infanta bowing with childish gravity 
to the assembling courtiers, or laughing behind her 
fan at the grim Duchess of Albuquerque who always 
accompanied her, he thought of the young Queen, 
her mother, who but a short time before — so it 
seemed to him — had come from the gay country of 
France, and had withered away in the somber splen- 
dor of the Spanish court, dying just six months after 
the birth of her child, and before she had seen the 
almonds blossom twice in the orchard or plucked 
the second year's fruit from the old gnarled fig-tree 
that stood in the center of the now grass-grown court- 
yard. So great had been his love for her that he had 
not suffered even the grave to hide her from him. 
She had been embalmed by a Moorish physician, 
who in return for this service had been granted his 
life, which for heresy and suspicion of magical prac- 
tices had been already forfeited, men said, to the 
Holy Office, and her body was still lying on its tapes- 
tried bier in the black marble chapel of the Palace, 
just as the monks had borne her in on that windy 
March day nearly twelve years before. Once every 
month the King, wrapped in a dark cloak and with 
a muffled lantern in his hand, went in and knelt by 
her side, calling ou^ "Mi reina! Mi reina!" and 

153 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

sometimes breaking through the formal etiquette that 
in Spain governs every separate action of life, and 
sets limits even to the sorrow of a King, he would 
clutch at the pale jeweled hands in a wild agony of 
grief, and try to wake by his mad kisses the cold 
painted face. 

To-day he seemed to see her again, as he had seen 
her first at the Castle of Fontainebleau, when he was 
but fifteen years of age, and she still younger. They 
had been formally betrothed on that occasion by the 
Papal Nuncio in the presence of the French King 
and all the Court, and he had returned to the Escu- 
rial bearing with him a little ringlet of yellow hair, 
and the memory of two childish lips bending down 
to kiss his hand as he stepped into his carriage. Later 
on had followed the marriage, hastily performed at 
Burgos, a small town on the frontier between the 
two countries, and the grand public entry into 
Madrid with the customary celebration of high mass 
at the Church of La Atoacha, and a more than usu- 
ally solemn auto-da-fe, in which nearly three hun- 
dred heretics, amongst whom were many English- 
men, had been delivered over to the secular arm to 
be burned. 

Certainly he had loved her madly, and to the ruin, 
many thought, of his country, then at war with Eng- 
land for the possession of the empire of the New 
World. He had hardly ever permitted her to be out 

154 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

of his sight; for her, he had forgotten, or seemed to 
have forgotten, all grave affairs of state; and, with 
that terrible blindness that passion brings upon its 
servants, he had failed to notice that the elaborate 
ceremonies by which he sought to please her did but 
aggravate the strange malady from which she suf- 
fered. When she died he was, for a time, like one be- 
reft of reason. Indeed, there is no doubt but that he 
would have formally abdicated and retired to the great 
Trappist monastery at Granada, of which he was 
already titular Prior; had he not been afraid to leave 
the little Infanta at the mercy of his brother, whose 
cruelty, even in Spain, was notorious, and who was 
suspected by many of having caused the Queen's 
death by means of a pair of poisoned gloves that he 
had presented to her on the occasion of her visiting 
his castle in Aragon. Even after the expiration of 
the three years of public mourning that he had or- 
dained throughout his whole dominion by royal edict, 
he would never suffer his ministers to speak about 
any new alliance, and when the Emperor himself 
sent to him, and offered him the hand of the lovely 
Archduchess of Bohemia, his niece, in marriage, he 
bade the ambassador tell their master that the King 
of Spain was already wedded to Sorrow, and that 
though she was but a barren bride he loved her bet- 
ter than Beauty; an answer that cost his crown the 
rich provinces of the Netherlands, which soon after, 

155 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

at the Emperor's instigation, revolted against him 
under the leadership of some fanatics of the Re- 
formed Church. 

His whole married life, with its fierce fiery- 
colored joys and the terrible agony of its sudden end- 
ing, seemed to come back to him to-day as he watched 
the Infanta playing on the terrace. She had all the 
Queen's pretty petulance of manner, the same wilful 
way of tossing her head, the same proud curved beau- 
tiful mouth, the same wonderful smile — vrai sourire 
de France indeed — as she glanced up now and then 
at the window, or stretched out her little hand for 
the stately Spanish gentlemen to kiss. But the shrill 
laughter of the children grated on his ears, and the 
bright pitiless sunlight mocked his sorrow, and a dull 
odor of strange spices, spices such as embalmers use, 
seemed to taint — or was it fancy? — the clear morn- 
ing air. He buried his face in his hands, and when 
the Infanta looked up again the curtains had been 
drawn, and the King had retired. 

She made a little moue of disappointment, and 
shrugged her shoulders. Surely he might have stayed 
with her on her birthday. What did the stupid State- 
affairs matter? Or had he gone to that gloomy 
chapel, where the candles were always burning, and 
where she was never allowed to enter? How silly 
of him, when the sun was shining so brightly, and 
everybody was so happy! Besides, he would miss 

i S 6 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the sham bull-fight for which the trumpet was al- 
ready sounding, to say nothing of the puppet show 
and the other wonderful things. Her uncle and the 
Grand Inquisitor were much more sensible. They 
had come out on the terrace, and paid her nice com- 
pliments. So she tossed her pretty head, and taking 
Don Pedro by the hand, she walked slowly down 
the steps towards a long pavilion of purple silk that 
had been erected at the end of the garden, the other 
children following in strict order of precedence, 
those who had the longest names going first. 

A procession of noble boys, fantastically dressed as 
toreadors, came out to meet her, and the young Count 
of Tierra Nueva, a wonderfully handsome lad of 
about fourteen years of age, uncovering his head with 
all the grace of a born hidalgo and grandee of Spain 
led her solemnly in to a gilt and ivory chair that was 
placed on a raised dais above the arena. The chil- 
dren grouped themselves all round, fluttering their 
big fans and whispering to each other, and Don 
Pedro and the Grand Inquisitor stood laughing at 
the entrance. Even the Duchess — the Camerera- 
Mayor as she was called — a thin, hard-featured 
woman with a yellow ruff, did not look quite so bad- 
tempered as usual, and something like a chill smile 
flitted across her wrinkled face and twitched her thin 
bloodless lips. 

It certainly was a marvelous bull-fight, and much 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

nicer, the Infanta thought, than the real bull-fight 
that she had been brought to see at Seville, on the 
occasion of the visit of the Duke of Parma to her 
father. Some of the boys pranced about on richly- 
caparisoned hobby-horses brandishing long javelins 
with gay streamers of bright ribands attached to 
them; others went on foot waving their scarlet cloaks 
before the bull, and vaulting lightly over the barrier 
when he charged them; and as for the bull himself, 
he was just like a live bull, though he was only made 
of wicker-work and stretched hide, and sometimes 
insisted on running round the arena on his hind legs, 
which no live bull ever dreams of doing. He made 
a splendid fight of it too, and the children got so 
excited that they stood up upon the benches, and 
waved their lace handkerchiefs and cried out: Bravo 
toro! Bravo torof just as sensibly as if they had been 
grown-up people. At last, however, after a pro- 
longed combat, during which several of the hobby- 
horses were gored through and through, and their 
riders dismounted, the young Count of Tierra Nueva 
brought the bull to his knees, and having obtained 
permission from the Infanta to give the coup de 
grace, he plunged his wooden sword into the neck of 
the animal with such violence that the head came 
right off, and disclosed the laughing face of little 
Monsieur de Lorraine, the son of the French Am- 
bassador at Madrid. 

I S 8 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

The arena was then cleared amidst much applause, 
and the dead hobby-horses dragged solemnly away 
by two Moorish pages in yellow and black liveries, 
and after a short interlude, during which a French 
posture-master performed upon the tight-rope, some 
Italian puppets appeared in the semi-classical trag- 
edy of Sophonisba on the stage of a small theater that 
had been built up for the purpose. They acted so 
well, and their gestures were so extremely natural, 
that at the close of the play the eyes of the Infanta 
were quite dim with tears. Indeed some of the chil- 
dren really cried, and had to be comforted with 
sweetmeats, and the Grand Inquisitor himself was so 
affected that he could not help saying to Don Pedro 
that it seemed to him intolerable that things made 
simply out of wood and colored wax, and worked 
mechanically by wires, should be so unhappy and 
meet such terrible misfortunes. 

An African juggler followed, who brought in a 
large flat basket covered with a red cloth, and hav- 
ing placed it in the center of the arena, he took from 
his turban a curious reed pipe, and blew through it. 
In a few moments the cloth began to move, and as 
the pipe grew shriller and shriller two green and 
gold snakes put out their strange wedge-shaped heads 
and rose slowly up, swaying to and fro with the music 
as a plant sways in the water. The children, how- 
ever, were rather frightened at their spotted hoods 

159 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and quick darting tongues, and were much more 
pleased when the juggler made a tiny orange-tree 
grow out of the sand and bear pretty white blossoms 
and clusters of real fruit; and when he took the fan 
of the little daughter of the Marquess de Las-Torres, 
and changed it into a blue bird that flew all round 
the pavilion and sang, their delight and amazement 
knew no bounds. The solemn minuet, too, performed 
by the dancing boys from the church of Nuestra 
Senora Del Pilar, was charming. The Infanta had 
never before seen this wonderful ceremony which 
takes place every year at May-time in front of the 
high altar of the Virgin, and in her honor; and in- 
deed none of the royal family of Spain had entered 
the great cathedral of Saragossa since a mad priest, 
supposed by many to have been in the pay of Eliza- 
beth of England, had tried to administer a poisoned 
wafer to the Prince of the Asturias. So she had 
known only by hearsay of "Our Lady's Dance," as it 
was called, and it certainly was a beautiful sight. 
The boys wore old-fashioned court dresses of white 
velvet, and their curious three-cornered hats were 
fringed with silver and surmounted with huge plumes 
of ostrich feathers, the dazzling whiteness of their 
costumes, as they moved about in the sunlight, be- 
ing still more accentuated by their swarthy faces and 
long black hair. Everybody was fascinated by the 
grave dignity with which they moved through the 

1 60 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

intricate figures of the dance, and by the elaborate 
grace of their slow gestures, and stately bows, and 
when they had finished their performance and doffed 
their plumed great hats to the Infanta, she acknowl- 
edged their reverence with much courtesy, and made 
a vow that she would send a large wax candle to the 
shrine of Our Lady of Pilar in return for the pleas- 
ure that she had given her. 

A troop of handsome Egyptians — as the gypsies 
were termed in those days — then advanced into the 
arena, and sitting down cross-legs, in a circle, began 
to play softly upon their zithers, moving their bodies 
to the tune, and humming almost below their breath 
a low dreamy air. When they caught sight of Don 
Pedro they scowled at him, and some of them looked 
terrified, for only a few weeks before he had had two 
of their tribe hanged for sorcery in the market-place 
at Seville, but the pretty Infanta charmed them as 
she leaned back peeping over her fan with her great 
blue eyes, and they felt sure that one so lovely as she 
was could never be cruel to anybody. So they played 
on very gently and just touching the cords of the 
zithers with their long pointed nails, and their heads 
began to nod as though they were falling asleep. 
Suddenly with a cry so shrill that all the children 
were startled and Don Pedro's hand clutched at the 
agate pommel of his dagger, they leapt to their feet 
and whirled madly round the inclosure beating their 

161 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

tambourines, and chanting some wild love-song in 
their strange guttural language. Then at another 
signal they all flung themselves again to the ground 
and lay there quite still, the dull strumming of the 
zithers being the only sound that broke the silence. 
After they had done this several times, they disap- 
peared for a moment and came back leading a shaggy 
bear by a chain, and carrying on their shoulders some 
little Barbary apes. The bear stood on his head with 
the utmost gravity, and the wizened apes played all 
kinds of amusing tricks with two gypsy boys who 
seemed to be their masters, and fought with tiny 
swords, and fired off guns, and went through a regu- 
lar soldier's drill like the King's own body-guard. 
In fact the gypsies were a great success. 

But the funniest part of the whole morning's enter- 
tainment was undoubtedly the dancing of the little 
Dwarf. When he stumbled into the arena, waddling 
on his crooked legs and wagging his huge misshapen 
head from side to side, the children went off into a 
loud shout of delight, and the Infanta herself laughed 
so much that the Camerera was obliged to remind 
her that although there were many precedents in 
Spain for a King's daughter weeping before her 
equals, there was none for a Princess of the blood 
royal making so merry before those who were her 
inferiors in birth. The Dwarf, however, was really 
quite irresistible, and even at the Spanish Court, 

162 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

always noted for its cultivated passion for the horri- 
ble, so fantastic a little monster had never been seen. 
It was his first appearance, too. He had been dis- 
covered only the day before, running wild through 
the forest, by two of the nobles who happened to have 
been hunting in a remote part of the great cork- 
wood that surrounded the town, and had been car- 
ried off by them to the Palace, as a surprise for the 
Infanta, his father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, 
being but too well pleased to get rid of so ugly and 
useless a child. Perhaps the most amusing thing 
about him was his complete unconsciousness of his 
own grotesque appearance. Indeed he seemed quite 
happy and full of the highest spirits. When the 
children laughed, he laughed as freely and as joy- 
ously as any of them, and at the close of each dance 
he made them each the funniest of bows, smiling and 
nodding at them, just as if he was really one of them, 
and not a little misshapen thing that Nature, in some 
humorous mood, had fashioned for others to mock 
at. As for the Infanta, she absolutely fascinated 
him. He could not keep his eyes off her, and seemed 
to dance for her alone, and when at the close of the 
performance, remembering how she had seen the 
great ladies of the Court throw bouquets to Caffarelli 
the famous Italian treble, whom the Pope had sent 
from his own chapel to Madrid that he might cure 
the King's melancholy by the sweetness of his voice, 

163 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

she took out of her hair the beautiful white rose, and 
partly for the jest and partly to tease the Camerera, 
threw it to him across the arena with her sweetest 
smile, he took the whole matter quite seriously, and 
pressing the flower to his rough coarse lips he put his 
hand upon his heart, and sank on one knee before 
her, grinning from ear to ear, and with his little 
bright eyes sparkling with pleasure. 

This so upset the gravity of the Infanta that she 
kept on laughing long after the little Dwarf had run 
out of the arena, and expressed a desire to her uncle 
that the dance should be immediately repeated. The 
Camerera, however, on the plea that the sun was too 
hot, decided that it would be better that her high- 
ness should return without delay to the Palace, where 
a wonderful feast had been already prepared for her, 
including a real birthday cake with her own initials 
worked all over it in painted sugar and a lovely silver 
flag waving from the top. The Infanta accordingly 
rose up with much dignity, and having given orders 
that the little Dwarf was to dance again for her after 
the hour of siesta, and conveyed her thanks to the 
young Count of Tierra Nueva for his charming re- 
ception, she went back to her apartments, the chil- 
dren following in the same order in which they had 
entered. 

Now when the little Dwarf heard that he was to 
dance a second time before the Infanta, and by her 

164 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

own express command, he was so proud that he ran 
out into the garden, kissing the white rose in an 
absurd ecstasy of pleasure, and making the most un- 
couth and clumsy gestures of delight. 

The flowers were quite indignant at his daring to 
intrude into their beautiful home, and when they saw 
him capering up and down the walks, and waving his 
arms above his head in such a ridiculous manner, 
they could not restrain their feelings any longer. 

"He is really far too ugly to be allowed to play in 
any place where we are," cried the Tulips. 

"He should drink poppy-juice, and go to sleep for 
a thousand years," said the great scarlet Lilies, and 
they grew quite hot and angry. 

"He is a perfect horror!" screamed the Cactus. 
"Why, he is twisted and stumpy, and his head is 
completely out of proportion with his legs. Really 
he makes me feel prickly all over, and if he comes 
near me I will sting him with my thorns." 

"And he has actually got one of my best blooms," 
exclaimed the White Rose-Tree. "I gave it to the 
Infanta this morning myself, as a birthday present, 
and he has stolen it from her." And she called out: 
"Thief, thief, thief!" at the top of her voice. 

Even the red Geraniums, who did not usually give 
themselves airs, and were known to have a great 
many poor relations, themselves, curled up in disgust 
when they saw him, and when the Violets meekly 

165 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

remarked that though he was certainly extremely 
plain, still he could not help it, they retorted with 
a good deal of justice that that was his chief defect, 
and that there was no reason why one should admire 
a person because he was incurable; and, indeed, some 
of the Violets themselves felt that the ugliness of the 
little Dwarf was almost ostentatious, and that he 
would have shown much better taste if he had looked 
sad, or at least pensive, instead of jumping about 
merrily, and throwing himself into such grotesque 
and silly attitudes. 

As for the old Sun-dial, who was an extremely re- 
markable individual, and had once told the time of 
day to no less a person than the Emperor Charles V 
himself, he was so taken aback by the little Dwarf's 
appearance, that he almost forgot to mark two whole 
minutes with his long shadowy finger, and could not 
help saying to the great milk-white Peacock, who 
was sunning herself on the balustrade, that every one 
knew that the children of Kings were Kings, and 
that the children of charcoal-burners were charcoal- 
burners, and that it was absurd to pretend that it 
wasn't so; a statement with which the Peacock en- 
tirely agreed, and indeed screamed out, "Certainly, 
certainly," in such a loud, harsh voice, that the gold- 
fish who lived in the basin of the cool splashing foun- 
tain put their heads out of the water, and asked 
the huge stone Tritons what on earth was the matter. 

1 66 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

But somehow the Birds liked him. They had seen 
him often in the forest, dancing about like an elf after 
the eddying leaves, or crouched up in the hollow of 
some old oak-tree, sharing his nuts with the squirrels. 
They did not mind his being ugly, a bit. Why, even 
the nightingale herself, who sang so sweetly in the 
orange groves at night that sometimes the Moon 
leaned down to listen, was not much to look at after 
all; and, besides, he had been kind to them, and dur- 
ing that terrible winter when there were no berries 
on the trees, and the ground was hard as iron, and 
the wolves had come down to the very gates of the 
city to look for food, he had never once forgotten 
them, but had always given them crumbs out of his 
little hunch of black bread, and divided with them 
whatever poor breakfast he had. 

So they flew round and round him, just touching 
his cheek with their wings as they passed, and chat- 
tered to each other, and the little Dwarf was so 
pleased that he could not help showing them the 
beautiful white rose, and telling them that the In- 
fanta herself had given it to him because she loved 
him. 

They did not understand a single word of what he 
was saying, but that made no matter, for they put 
their heads on one side, and looked wise, which is 
quite as good as understanding a thing, and very 
much easier. 

167 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

The Lizards also took an immense fancy to him, 
and when he grew tired of running about and flung 
himself down on the grass to rest, they played and 
romped all over him, and tried to amuse him in the 
best way they could. "Every one cannot be as beau- 
tiful as a lizard," they cried ; "that would be too much 
to expect. And, though it sounds absurd to say so, 
he is really not so ugly after all, provided, of course, 
that one shuts one's eyes, and does not look at him." 
The Lizards were extremely philosophical by nature, 
and often sat thinking for hours and hours together, 
when there was nothing else to do, or when the 
weather was too rainy for them to go out. 

The Flowers, however, were excessively annoyed 
at their behavior, and at the behavior of the birds. 
"It only shows," they said, "what a vulgarizing effect 
this incessant rushing and flying about has. Well- 
bred people always stay exactly in the same place, as 
we do. No one ever saw us hopping up and down 
the walks, or galloping madly through the grass after 
dragon-flies. When we do want change of air, we 
send for the gardener, and he carries us to another 
bed. This is dignified, and as it should be. But 
birds and lizards have no sense of repose, and indeed 
birds have not even a permanent address. They are 
mere vagrants like the gypsies, and should be treated 
in exactly the same manner." So they put their noses 
in the air, and looked haughty, and were quite de- 

168 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

lighted when after some time they saw the little 
Dwarf scramble up from the grass, and make his way 
across the terrace to the palace. 

"He should certainly be kept indoors for the rest 
of his natural life," they said. "Look at his hunched 
back, and his crooked legs," and they began to titter. 

But the little Dwarf knew nothing of all this. He 
liked the birds and the lizards immensely, and 
thought that the flowers were the most marvelous 
thing in the whole world, except of course the In- 
fanta, but then she had given him the beautiful white 
rose, and she loved him, and that made a great differ- 
ence. How he wished that he had gone back with 
her! She would have put him on her right hand, 
and smiled at him, and he would have never left her 
side, but would have made her his playmate, and 
taught her all kinds of delightful tricks. For though 
he had never been in a palace before, he knew a great 
many wonderful things. He could make little cages 
out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and 
fashion the long-jointed bamboo into the pipe that 
Pan loves to hear. He knew the cry of every bird, 
and could call the starlings from the tree-top, or 
the heron from the mere. He knew the trail of every 
animal, and could track the hare by its delicate foot- 
prints, and the boar by the trampled leaves. All the 
wind-dances he knew, the mad dance in red raiment 
with the autumn, the light dance in blue sandals over 

169 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

the corn, the dance with white snow-wreaths in win- 
ter, and the blossom-dance through the orchards in 
spring. He knew where the wood-pigeons built their 
nests, and once when a fowler had snared the parent 
birds, he had brought up the young ones himself, 
and had built a little dovecot for them in the cleft of 
a pollard elm. They were quite tame, and used to 
feed out of his hands every morning. She would 
like them, and the rabbits that scurried about in the 
long fern, and the jays with their steely feathers and 
black bills, and the hedgehogs that could curl them- 
selves up into prickly balls, and the great wise tor- 
toises that crawled slowly about, shaking their heads 
and nibbling at the young leaves. Yes, she must cer- 
tainly come to the forest and play with him. He 
would give her his own little bed, and would keep 
watch outside the window till dawn, to see that the 
wild horned cattle did not harm her, nor the gaunt 
wolves creep too near the hut. And at dawn he 
would tap at the shutters and wake her, and they 
would go out and dance together all the day long. 
It was really not a bit lonely in the forest. Some- 
times a Bishop rode through on his white mule, read- 
ing out of a painted book. Sometimes, in their green 
velvet caps, and their jerkins of tanned deerskin, the 
falconers passed by, with hooded hawks on their 
wrists. At vintage time came the grape-treaders, 
with purple hands and feet, wreathed with glossy 

170 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

ivy and carrying dripping skins of wine; and the 
charcoal-burners sat round their huge braziers at 
night, watching the dry logs charring slowly in the 
fire, and roasting chestnuts in the ashes, and the rob- 
bers came out of their caves and made merry with 
them. Once, too, he had seen a beautiful procession 
winding up the long dusty road to Toledo. The 
monks went in front singing sweetly, and carrying 
bright banners and crosses of gold, and then, in silver 
armor, with matchlocks and pikes, came the soldiers, 
and in their midst walked three barefooted men, in 
strange yellow dresses painted all over with wonder- 
ful figures, and carrying lighted candles in their 
hands. Certainly there was a great deal to look at in 
the forest, and when she was tired he would find a 
soft bank of moss for her, or carry her in his arms, 
for he was very strong, though he knew that he was 
not tall. He would make her a necklace of red 
bryony berries, that would be quite as pretty as the 
white berries that she wore on her dress, and when 
she was tired of them, she could throw them away, 
and he would find her others. He would bring her 
acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones, and tiny 
glow-worms to be stars in the pale gold of her hair. 

But where was she? He asked the white rose, and 
it made him no answer. The whole palace seemed 
asleep, and even where the shutters had not been 
closed, heavy curtains had been drawn across the win- 

171 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

dows to keep out the glare. He wandered all round 
looking for some place through which he might gain 
an entrance, and at last he caught sight of a little 
private door that was lying open. He slipped 
through, and found himself in a splendid hall, far 
more splendid, he feared, than the forest, there was 
so much more gilding everywhere, and even the floor 
was made of great colored stones, fitted together into 
a sort of geometrical pattern. But the little Infanta 
was not there, only some wonderful white statues that 
looked down on him from their jasper pedestals, 
with sad blank eyes and strangely smiling lips. 

At the end of the hall a richly embroidered cur- 
tain of black velvet powdered with suns and stars, 
the King's favorite devices, and broidered on the 
color he loved best. Perhaps she was hiding behind 
that? He would try at any rate. 

So he stole quietly across, and drew it aside. No; 
there was only another room, though a prettier room, 
he thought, than the one he had just left. The walls 
were hung with a many-figured green arras of needle- 
wrought tapestry representing a hunt, the work of 
some Flemish artists who had spent more than seven 
years in its composition. It had once been the cham- 
ber of Jean le Fou, as he was called, that mad King 
who was so enamored of the chase, that he often tried 
in his delirium to mount the huge rearing horses, 
and to drag down the stag on which the great 

172 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

hounds were leaping, sounding his hunting horn, and 
stabbing with his dagger at the pale flying deer. It 
was now used as the council-room, and on the center- 
table were lying red port-folios of the minister 
stamped with the gold tulips of Spain, and with the 
arms and emblems of the house of Hapsburg. 

The little Dwarf looked in wonder all round him, 
and was half afraid to go on. The strange silent 
horsemen that galloped so swiftly through the long 
glades without making any noise, seemed to him like 
those terrible phantoms of whom he had heard char- 
coal-burners speaking — the Comprachos, who hunt 
only at night, and if they meet a man, turn him into 
a hind, and chase him. But he thought of the pretty 
Infanta, and took courage. He wanted to find her 
alone, and to tell her that he too loved her. Per- 
haps she was in the room beyond. 

He ran across the soft Moorish carpets, and opened 
the door. No! She was not here either. The room 
was quite empty. 

It was a throne-room, used for the reception of 
foreign ambassadors, when the King, which of late 
had not been often, consented to give them a personal 
audience; the same room in which, many years be- 
fore, envoys had appeared from England to make 
arrangements for the marriage of their Queen, then 
one of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe, with the 
Emperor's eldest son. The hangings were of gilt 

173 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

Cordovan leather, and a heavy gilt chandelier with 
branches for three hundred wax lights hung down 
from the black and white ceiling. Underneath a 
great canopy of gold cloth, on which the lions and 
towers of Castile were broidered in seed pearls, stood 
the throne itself, covered with a rich pall of black 
velvet studded with silver tulips and elaborately 
fringed with silver and pearls. On the second step 
of the throne was placed the kneeling-stool of the 
Infanta, with its cushion of cloth of silver tissue, 
and below that again, and beyond the limit of the 
canopy, stood the chair for the Papal Nuncio, who 
alone had the right to be seated in the King's pres- 
ence on the occasion of any public ceremonial, and 
whose Cardinal hat, with its tangled scarlet tassels, 
lay on a purple tabouret in front. On the wall, fac- 
ing the throne, hung a life-sized portrait of Charles V 
in hunting dress, with a great mastiff by his side, and 
a picture of Philip II receiving the homage of the 
Netherlands occupied the center of the other wall. 
Between the windows stood a black ebony cabinet, 
inlaid with plates of ivory, on which the figures from 
Holbein's Dance of Death had been graved — by the 
hand, some said, of that famous master himself. 

But the little Dwarf cared nothing for all this 
magnificence. He would not have given his rose 
for all the pearls on the canopy, nor one white petal 
of his rose for the throne itself. What he wanted 

174 




THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 

It was a monster, the most grotesque monster he had ever beheld. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

was to see the Infanta before she went down to the 
pavilion, and to ask her to come away with him when 
he had finished his dance. Here, in the Palace, the 
air was close and heavy, but in the forest the wind 
blew free, and the sunlight with wandering hands of 
gold moved the tremulous leaves aside. There were 
flowers too, in the forest, not so splendid, perhaps, 
as the flowers in the gardens, but more sweetly 
scented for all that; hyacinths in early spring that 
flooded with waving purple the cool glens, and grassy 
knolls; yellow primroses that nestled in little clumps 
round the gnarled roots of the oak-trees; bright 
celandine, and blue speedwell, and irises lilac and 
gold. There were gray catkins on the hazels, and 
the fox-gloves drooped with the weight of their dap- 
pled bee-haunted cells. The chestnut had its spires 
of white stars, and the hawthorn its pallid moons of 
beauty. Yes : surely she would come if he could only 
find her! She would come with him to the fair for- 
est, and all day long he would dance for her delight. 
A smile lit up his eyes at the thought, and he passed 
into the next room. 

Of all the rooms this was the brightest and the most 
beautiful. The walls were covered with a pink- 
flowered Lucca damask, patterned with birds and 
dotted with dainty blossoms of silver; the furniture 
was of massive silver, festooned with florid wreaths 
and swinging Cupids; in front of the two large fire- 

175 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

places stood great screens broidered with parrots 
and peacocks, and the floor, which was of sea-green 
onyx, seemed to stretch far away in the distance. 
Nor was he alone. Standing under the shadow of 
the doorway, at the extreme end of the room, he saw 
a little figure watching him. His heart trembled, 
a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he moved out 
into the sunlight. As he did so, the figure moved out 
also, and he saw it plainly. 

The Infanta! It was a monster, the most grotesque 
monster he had ever beheld. Not properly shaped, 
as all other people were, but hunchbacked, and 
crooked-limbed, with huge lolling head and mane 
of black hair. The little Dwarf frowned, and the 
monster frowned also. He laughed, and it laughed 
with him, and held its hands to its sides, just as he 
himself was doing. He made it a mocking bow, and 
it returned him a low reverence. He went towards 
it, and it came to meet him, copying each step that he 
made, and stopping when he stopped himself. He 
shouted with amusement, and ran forward, and 
reached out his hand, and the hand of the monster 
touched his, and it was as cold as ice. He grew afraid, 
and moved his hand across, and the monster's hand 
followed it quickly. He tried to press on, but some- 
thing smooth and hard stopped him. The face of 
the monster was now close to his own, and seemed 
full of terror. He brushed his hair off his eyes. It 

176 




THE BIRTH DA Y OF THE INFANTA 

i Mi Bella Princessa, your funny little dwarf will never dance again" 1 ' '. 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

imitated him. He struck at it, and it returned blow 
for blow. He loathed it, and it made hideous faces 
at him. He drew back, and it retreated. 

What is it? He thought for a moment, and looked 
round at the rest of the room. It was strange, but 
everything seemed to have its double in this invisible 
wall of clear water. Yes, picture for picture was 
repeated, and couch for couch. The sleeping Faun 
that lay in the alcove by the doorway had its twin 
brother that slumbered, and the silver Venus that 
stood in the sunlight held out her arms to a Venus 
as lovely as herself. 

Was it echo? He had called to her once in the 
valley, and she had answered him word for word. 
Could she mock the eye, as she mocked the voice? 
Could she make a mimic world just like the real 
world? Could the shadow of things have color and 
life and movement? Could it be that — ? 

He started, and taking from his breast the beau- 
tiful white rose, he turned round and kissed it. The 
monster had a rose of its own, petal for petal the 
same! It kissed it with like kisses, and pressed it to 
its heart with horrible gestures. 

When the truth dawned upon him, he gave a wild 
cry of despair, and fell sobbing to the ground. So 
it was he who was misshapen and hunchbacked, foul 
to look at and grotesque. He himself was the mon- 
ster, and it was at him that all the children had been 

177 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

laughing, and the little Princess who he had thought 
loved him, — she too had been merely mocking at his 
ugliness, and making merry over his twisted limbs. 
Why had they not left him in the forest where there 
was no mirror to tell him how loathsome he was? 
Why had his father not killed him, rather than sell 
him to his shame? The hot tears poured down his 
cheeks, and he tore the white rose to pieces. The 
sprawling monster did the same, and scattered the 
faint petals in the air. It groveled on the ground, 
and, when he looked at it, it watched him with a face 
drawn with pain. He crept away, lest he should 
see it, and covered his eyes with his hands. He 
crawled, like some wounded thing, into the shadow, 
and lay there moaning. 

And at that moment the Infanta herself came in 
with her companions through the open window, and 
when they saw the ugly Dwarf lying on the ground 
and beating the floor with his clenched hands, in the 
most fantastic and exaggerated manner, they went 
off into shouts of happy laughter, and stood all round 
him and watched him. 

"His dancing was funny," cried the Infanta; "but 
his acting is funnier still. Indeed he is almost as 
good as the puppets, only of course not so natural." 
And she fluttered her big fan, and applauded. 

But the little Dwarf never looked up, and his sobs 
grew fainter and fainter, and suddenly he gave a 

178 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

curious gasp, and clutched his side. And then he 
fell back again, and lay quite still. 

"That is capital," said the Infanta, after a pause; 
"but now you must dance for me." 

"Yes," cried all the children, "you must get up 
and dance, for you are as clever as the Barbary apes, 
and much more ridiculous." 

But the little Dwarf made no answer. 

And the Infanta stamped her foot, and called out 
to her uncle, who was walking on the terrace with 
the Chamberlain, reading some dispatches that had 
just arrived from Mexico where the Holy Office had 
recently been established. "My funny little Dwarf is 
sulking," she cried, "you must wake him up, and tell 
him to dance for me." 

They smiled at each other, and sauntered in, and 
Don Pedro stooped down, and slapped the Dwarf 
on the cheek with his embroidered glove. "You 
must dance," he said, "petit monstre. You must 
dance. The Infanta of Spain and the Indies wishes 
to be amused." 

But the little Dwarf never moved. 

"A whipping-master should be sent for," said Don 
Pedro wearily, and he went back to the terrace. But 
the Chamberlain looked grave, and he knelt beside 
the little Dwarf, and put his hands upon his heart. 
And after a few moments he shrugged his shoulders, 

179 



A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 

and rose up, and having made a low bow to me 
Infanta, he said: 

"Mi bella Princessa, your funny little Dwarf will 
never dance again. It is a pity, for he is so ugly that 
he might have made the King smile." 

"But why will he not dance again?" asked the 
Infanta, laughing. 

"Because his heart is broken," answered the Cham- 
berlain. 

And the Infanta frowned, and her dainty rose-leaf 
lips curled in pretty disdain. "For the future let 
those who come to play with me have no hearts," she 
cried, and she ran out into the garden. 



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